THE NEW REFORM TEMPLE OF BERLIN: CHRISTIAN MUSIC AND JEWISH IDENTITY DURING THE HASKALAH Samuel Teeple A Thesis Submitted to the Graduate College of Bowling Green State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF MUSIC August 2018 Committee: Arne Spohr, Advisor Eftychia Papanikolaou
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THE NEW REFORM TEMPLE OF BERLIN: CHRISTIAN MUSIC AND JEWISH IDENTITY DURING THE HASKALAH
Samuel Teeple
A Thesis
Submitted to the Graduate College of Bowling Green State University in partial fulfillment of
2.2 Interior of the Jacobstempel ....................................................................................... 28
2.3 Organ of the Jacobstempel, photographed in 1910 .................................................... 29
2.4 Text to Heilig ist der Herr, Gott Zebaoth, Johann August Günther Heinroth ........... 37
3.1 Converts in Berlin, 1800-1874 (number of cases: 4,635) .......................................... 51
3.2 Proportion of Berlin Jews Converting ....................................................................... 51
3.3 Sketch of the New Reform Temple in the Beer Mansion by Isaak Markus Jost ....... 60
ix
LIST OF TABLES
Table Page
3.1 Labels from Jost’s Sketch in German and English .................................................... 60
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INTRODUCTION
The assertion that music plays a fundamental role in group identity formation is by no
means a new idea. Many musicologists and ethnomusicologists have investigated the
multifarious ways that music is deployed within a community: it can cement shared bonds,
demarcate boundaries, communicate beliefs, and produce schisms, often all at the same time.
The purpose of this project, which takes as its subject the first iteration of Reform Judaism, is
deeply tied to my own curiosity about how ostensibly simple forms of music can express
complex ideology and negotiate cultural boundaries. To that effect, this thesis will explore the
adoption of Protestant-influenced music within new forms of German-Jewish worship at the turn
of the nineteenth century. Through the course of my study, I will demonstrate that within the
context of the Reformed Jewish service, the use of Christian music served to communicate a new
possibility of German-Jewish identity.
The problem that Reform Judaism arose to solve was that of Jewish subjugation.
Throughout Europe, Jews were commonly considered to be cultural outsiders, a dispersed nation
that was met with toleration at best and violent persecution at worst. Until the late eighteenth
century,1 Jews were not recognized as citizens in any European state and lacked most rights and
protections. Within society, the popular image of the Jew was overwhelmingly negative—not
only in that its qualities were generally undesirable, but that these qualities were defined in
1 Following the French Revolution, France became the first government to grant citizenship to Jews in 1792. Paul Mendes-Flohr and Jehuda Reinharz, eds., The Jew in the Modern World: A Documentary History, 2nd ed. (New York: Oxford University, 1995), 112.
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opposition to the Christian ideal.2 In Germany, religion and national identity were linked so
deeply that many considered a German-Jew to be an impossible contradiction.3
With the goal of ameliorating the gap between Christians and Jews, Israel Jacobson
(1768-1828), founder of Reform Judaism, created a radically new service that drew upon forms
of worship most commonly associated with the Protestant faith, including a sermon, German
chorales sung by the congregation, organ accompaniment, and a choir.4 After finding inspiration
as a student in the ideas of the Haskalah, or Jewish Enlightenment, Jacobson became committed
to revitalizing and modernizing Judaism. Like other wealthy, educated Jews of his time,
Jacobson was deeply committed to German culture; unlike other wealthy, educated Jews,
however, Jacobson was adamant in his desire to remain Jewish and refused to convert to
Christianity.
Musically, Jacobson’s service was characterized by its use of songs modeled after
Lutheran chorales that were sung by the congregation, organ accompaniment, choral singing, and
the elimination of the traditional music of the synagogue, a custom that had developed over more
than a millennium. The music of the service worked in conjunction with Protestant-style
sermons, the use of both German and Hebrew, and the church- and salon-like environments in
which Jacobson’s services were held. Jacobson first instituted his musical and liturgical agenda
in Seesen, where in 1810 he opened a community temple associated with a boys’ school that he
had founded eight years earlier. By 1815, Jacobson left for Berlin where he opened the New
2 Ruth HaCohen, The Music Libel Against the Jews (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2011), 6-9. 3 Deborah Hertz, How Jews Became Germans: The History of Conversion and Assimilation in Berlin (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007), 72. 4 Michael A. Meyer, Response to Modernity: A History of the Reform Movement in Judaism (Detroit: Wayne State University, 1988), 42.
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Reform Temple, an extremely popular service held in a private home.5 Each element of the
newly created reform service worked in concert, simultaneously expressing an affinity with
German Protestantism and bourgeois cultural values while also maintaining Judaism’s core
system of belief and morals. As the primary vehicle for self-edification among worshippers,6 the
music of Jacobson’s Reform service was constructed and employed in ways that specifically
reinforced his mission to bring Judaism in line with German cultural structures.
My primary sources for this investigation come from historical letters, sermons,
contemporary reports, and preserved music associated with Jacobson, the Seesen Temple, and
the New Reform Temple. The journal Sulamith, a vehicle for the cause of Jewish Reform in the
early nineteenth century, is especially important to my project as this journal contains a series of
reports detailing some of Jacobson’s services. Although much of the music used for Jacobson’s
early Reform services has been lost, I have accessed a German-Hebrew songbook published by
Jacobson in 1810 and a recently published work by Giacomo Meyerbeer written to be performed
in the New Reform Temple, the Hallelujah Cantatine. My musical discussions of these pieces
and performance traditions preserved in writing center upon the question, “How does this music
communicate identity?”
In Chapter 1, “The Historical Origins of Jewish Reform,” I consider the changing role of
music within the Ashkenazi synagogue, the European tradition into which Jacobson was born.
Chapter 2, “Israel Jacobson’s Agenda of Musical Reform in Seesen,” provides a contextualized
analysis of how Christian music functioned with Jacobson’s services in Seesen, situating each of
5 Jacobson’s time in Seesen, Berlin, and elsewhere is fully documented by Jacob R. Marcus in Israel Jacobson: The Founder of the Reform Movement in Judaism (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College, 1972). 6 Joachim Frassl, Die Jacobson-Schule in Seesen mit Tempel und Alumnat: Jüdische Architektur als Ausdruck von Emanzipation und Assimilierung im. 19 Jahrhundert (New York: Georg Olms, 2009), 95.
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Jacobson’s changes within his wider ideological framework. Chapter 3, “The New Reform
Temple of Berlin: 1815-1823” describes how the social and political currents of Berlin interacted
with Jacobson’s agenda of reform, while also tracing the relationship between Bildung, the music
of the New Reform Temple, and the aesthetic of devotion.
Jacobson’s decision to wholly remove the traditional music of the synagogue can be
easily read as a gesture toward assimilation, in which a Jew abandons his ethnic, cultural, and
religious background in favor of belonging to the majority.7 Although Jacobson wrote often of
his desire to create a Judaism that was closer in appearance to Christianity, he maintained the
prayers and text that make up the liturgical core of Jewish worship. On an even more
fundamental level, Jacobson continued in his faith at a time when Christian conversions were
rapidly increasing.8 By bringing the music and style of German Protestant worship into the
temple, Jacobson created a form of Judaism that was more fully commensurate with the demands
of German culture and the Prussian state. Through this process, Christian music became a tool to
diminish the antithetical relationship between German and Jewish identities.
7 While scholars such as Michael A. Meyer and Tina Frühauf have insightfully used assimilation-based models to understand the relationship between Jewish Reformers and German culture, I will be discussing this relationship in terms of acculturation. Because assimilation as a process is by definition objective-oriented (with the final result being the absorption of the minority subject by the majority society), it can blur the distinctions between the different strategies of reform and conversion that I examine in this project. By describing Jacobson and other Reformers as acculturated, I intend to underline that their goal was not to be understood as entirely German, but rather to be recognized by Christians and the state as German-Jews. 8 Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 223.
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CHAPTER I: THE HISTORICAL ORIGINS OF JEWISH REFORM
In order to discern how the New Reform Temple utilized musical elements associated
with Protestantism to articulate a German-Jewish identity, one must first understand the tradition
from which it descended. The music of Jewish worship, even in its current form, is rooted in
practices that precede the Common Era, extending back to the period before the Jews were exiled
from Egypt. As Jews settled in Europe and form stable communities, however, these practices
began to take on aspects of the musical and liturgical cultures surrounding them. The purpose of
this chapter is to address the shifting functions, perceptions, and influences of music within the
synagogue, tracing the lineage of the New Reform Temple from the destruction of the Second
Temple in 70 CE to the gradual transformation of Jewish liturgical music among the Ashkenazi
Jews of Western Europe. The final section of this chapter addresses musical practices within the
Alte Synagoge of Berlin,1 the institutional center of Jewish life in Berlin during the eighteenth
and early nineteenth centuries. After placing the New Reform Temple within its broad religious
and historical context, the reader will more clearly perceive the significance of Israel Jacobson’s
musical liturgy and the relationship between religious music and cultural identity.
Musical Components of Jewish Worship
Necessary to any historical investigation of music within Jewish worship is a working
knowledge of services within the synagogue, the traditional term used for a Jewish house of
1 This synagogue was located on the Heidereutergasse, a street that runs through the historic center of Old Berlin. After a new synagogue was built in 1866, this synagogue became known as the Alte Synagoge (Old Synagogue). During its use, it was also referred to as the Große Synagoge (Great Synagogue), in reference to its size and splendor. Some current scholarship also refers to the building as the Heidereutergasse Synagogue, due to its address. Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 24.
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gathering and prayer.2 To readers more familiar with Christianity, the synagogue is similar in
function to the typical church: it provides the sacred space in which services, rituals, and
ceremonies are held, in addition to serving as a center of learning and a community gathering
place. While the Jewish liturgy includes a variety of services held throughout the week and at
different times of the day (as is customary in many Christian denominations), the prayer service
accorded the most religious importance is that of the Sabbath. Held in the synagogue on Saturday
morning, the service broadly consists of the following sections:
1. P’sukei d’Zimrah (Passages of Song)2. The Prayer Service3. The Torah Service4. The Musaf (Additional) Service
Within the relatively short first section, the hazzan, a cantor that leads the congregation in
prayer, sings a series of benedictions, psalms, and hymns to introduce the service, giving praise
to God before making requests of Him during prayers.3 The central feature of the Prayer Service
which follows is the Amidah (Eighteen Benedictions), in which the congregation first reads each
benediction silently before the hazzan recites each section aloud. The Torah Service is described
by Emanuel Rubin and John H. Baron as “a ritualized mini-drama,” in which the Torah scroll is
removed from the ark, carried through the synagogue, read at the lectern, and returned to the ark
after a second procession.4 During both processions, hymns are sung by both the cantor and the
congregation. The rabbi then presents a sermon that discusses an ethical interpretation of the
reading for the day. The last section of the Sabbath prayer service is the Musaf, in which the
2 Emanuel Rubin and John H. Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture (Detroit: Wayne State University, 2006), 12. 3 In modern Reform Judaism, the hazzan is referred to as a cantor. Since the core of my research addresses Judaism in the early nineteenth century, however, I will be using the older term hazzan. Ibid., 13. 4 Ibid., 16.
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hazzan recites additional prayers and hymns to close the service. At various points, congregants
are called upon to sing in response to or with the hazzan. In some traditions, worshippers are also
encouraged to read aloud to themselves while following the service, mimicking the melodic
motion of the hazzan in a sub-vocalized manner.5
One of the most notable musical features of Jewish worship is cantillation, defined by
Rubin and Baron as “the use of pre-existing musical motives in a song-like declamation of the
bible passages read weekly in the synagogue.”6 Symbolic markings referred to as te’amim are
written underneath each line of text in the Hebrew Bible, illustrating the melodic and syntactical
motion of each syllable or phrase. The set of formalized te’amim in use today were first codified
by Aaron Ben Moses Ben Asher, a scribe from Tiberia in northern Israel, during the first decades
of the tenth century.7 The shape of each te’amim does not designate a specific melodic phrase,
interval, or pitch, but is open to interpretation; Jewish scholar Avigdor Herzog recognizes five
distinct regional traditions, each with their own patterns and tropes.8 The Ashkenazic tradition
found in the US and Central and Western Europe tends to have the “broadest melodic contours”
and associates unique musical phrases with each shape.9 Cantillated texts lack consistent meter
and pulse—each passage is recited in “a kaleidoscopic chain” of melodic motives based on the
reading’s te’anim. Thus, each performance of the same text is unique, differentiated by the
performer’s motivic combinations, but also situated within a common structure that is aurally
recognizable to the trained ear.
5 Ibid., 16-20. 6 Ibid., 67-69 7 Mark Kligman, “Jewish Liturgical Music,” in The Cambridge Companion to Jewish Music, ed. Joshua S. Walden (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 89. 8 Avigdor Herzog, “Masoretic Accents,” in Encyclopedia Judaica (New York: Macmillan, 2007), 656-664. 9 Kligman, “Jewish Liturgical Music,” 89.
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The use of cantillation points to Judaism’s original oral tradition—the music of the
synagogue prior to the eighteenth century was largely unrecorded via Western notation. Instead,
hazzanim (the plural of hazzan) relied upon learned melodies, modes, and improvisation in
context with the symbolic te’amim to perform readings and prayers of the day.10
A number of other musical practices within the synagogue utilize this skillset: psalms and
some prayers are sung according to the nusah, or prayers modes, which sound quite distinctive
from the diatonic major and minor scales used within much of Christian polyphony. Hazzanim
were also required to memorize lengthy melodies associated with specific prayers and specific
days; the complete melodies and the prayer modes, though they differ in length, are adapted to
each text in different ways by different hazzanim, contributing to the shifting interpretations at
hand within the music of the synagogue.11 Each type of music described is performed by the
hazzan in a highly characteristic style unique to Jewish worship, one marked by rhythmic
freedom, melisma, monophony, and a purely vocal character.12 Although some Jewish
denominations today allow and encourage the use of instruments during worship, the vast
majority of synagogues prior to the nineteenth century banned any instrument from participating
in prayer services.13
The Music of the Second Temple and the Aftermath of its Destruction
The decision to eliminate instruments from prayer was based in halakhic law originated
in the aftermath of the Roman destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE. The Temple in
10 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 137-139. 11 Kligman, “Jewish Liturgical Music,” 89-92. 12 Although Jewish Music in its Historical Development is almost 100 years old, Idelsohn’s exhaustive scholarship largely stands up to current standards. This work is still referenced today by most scholars working in the field of Jewish music. Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 112. 13 Frühauf, The Organ and its Music, 12.
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Jerusalem functioned as the center of Jewish holy life: animal sacrifices, an essential aspect of
early Jewish worship, could only be made in the Temple, and many Jews made pilgrimages to
the Temple.14 Synagogues were also extant in this early period, providing a space for prayer,
education, and sacrificial donations.15 In addition to animal sacrifices, services within both the
Second Temple and its predecessor (referred to as Solomon’s Temple) were known for their
impressive vocal and instrumental music, all of which was performed by musicians apart from
the congregation.16 The congregation did play a small role in the ceremony, responding
periodically with sung interjections of “Hallelujah” and “Amen.”17 Many passages in the Bible
describe the impressive music of Solomon’s Temple: the ensemble of “four thousand who
pleased the Lord with instruments” on holidays is mentioned in the Book of Chronicles,18 and
the rededication of the Second Temple was celebrated with “song, cymbals, harps, and lyres.”19
Within the Temple and Jewish culture at large, music was an essential aspect of both ritual and
celebration; singers, drummers, and trumpeters were commonly included in parades, weddings,
and funerals.20
After the Romans violently expelled the Jews from Jerusalem and destroyed the Second
Temple, the surviving rabbis made the collective decision to ban music from worship as a sign of
mourning for the lost Temple. Maimonides, a famous Jewish scholar of the twelfth century,
14 Donald Drew Binder, Into the Temple Courts: The Place of the Synagogues in the Second Temple Period, PhD. Diss., Southern Methodist University, 1997, 2. 15 Ibid., 309. 16 These musicians were referred to in the Bible as Levites, as King David had entrusted the Tribe of Levi with the responsibility of training and providing musicians for use in the Temple. J.A. Smith, “Which Psalms Were Sung in the Temple?” Music and Letters 71, no. 2 (1990): 167-186, see 167. 17 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 129. 18 Chronicles 23:5, as referenced in Ibid., 26. 19 Nehemiah 12:27-28, as referenced in Ibid., 30. 20 Joshua R. Jacobson, “We Hung Up Our Harps: Rabbinic Restrictions on Jewish Music,” Journal of Synagogue Music 25, no. 2 (1998), 35-38.
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wrote that “The rabbis at the time of the destruction of the Second Temple prohibited playing
any musical instruments, singing songs and making any sound resembling song. It is forbidden to
have any pleasure therein, and it is forbidden to listen to them because of the destruction [of the
Temple].”21
Over time, this ban gradually evolved into a prohibition against the use of instruments in
worship, leading to the dominance of vocal music within synagogue services.22 In order to
preserve the integrity of Judaism while communities of Jews migrated to farther distances, the
remaining rabbis soon agreed on a codified liturgy that, in addition to eliminating instruments,
continued many Temple rites, including “rabbinic-style prayers” and “non-sacrificial temple
rituals like the priestly benediction or blowing of the shofar.”23 Furthering the moral imperative
to separate instrumental music from prayer, instruments were commonly associated with vice,
seduction, and indulgence.24 Community leaders feared, writes Joshua R. Jacobson, that taking
pleasure in music would “distract the Jew from the expected norms of ethical behavior.”25
21 Maimonides, The Law of Fasting, 5:14; as quoted and translated in Jacobson, “We Hung Up Our Harps,” 41. 22 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 36. 23 Ruth Langer, Jewish Liturgy: A Guide to Research (New York: Rowman and Littlefield, 2015) 37. 24 Jacobson, “We Hung Up Our Harps,” 42. 25 Quoted and translated in Ibid., 41. Until the Renaissance, many Christian leaders also disavowed the use of instrumental music in worship. As noted by James W. McKinnon, this was largely due to the association of instruments with pagan worship and immoral behavior. James W. McKinnon, “Christian Church, Music of the Early,” Grove Music Online, accessed 20 April 2018, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000005705.
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Although Western Christian churches gradually integrated the organ into their worship
until use of the instrument became widespread around the eleventh century,26 the majority of
rabbis and Jews continued to disavow the use of instruments within services well into the
seventeenth century. By the late Middle Ages, the aural landscape of the synagogue began to
develop in a manner apart from other worship spaces (especially churches); the ubiquity of
monophonic vocal music, along with the distinctive timbre of the prayer modes and semi-
improvisatory cantillation became markers of sacred Jewish identity that are largely preserved to
this day. In both its absence and presence, music within the liturgy articulated group boundaries
and community identity among Jews.
Synagogue Music and European Influence Among the Ashkenazim
By the tenth century, a community of Jews known as the Ashkenazim27 developed along
the Rhine River in northern France and western Germany in the cities of Mainz, Speyer and
Worms. Over the following centuries, they gradually emigrated into Poland, Russia, and
throughout Eastern Europe—in the years preceding World War II, Ashkenazim accounted for
approximately 90% of the world’s Jewish population.28 In nineteenth-century Berlin, Vienna,
and Hamburg (the cities in which Reform Judaism flourished), Jewish communities were
primarily Ashkenazi; as such, the city synagogues ordered their services in the Ashkenazi rite.29
26 Peter Williams, “Organ,” in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 2nd ed., vol. 18 (New York: Macmillan, 2001), 587-591. 27 In Hebrew, Ashkenaz refers to Germany, Ashkenazi can refer to a single German Jew or act as an adjective, and Ashkenazim is the plural of Ashkenazi. 28 Yehoshua M. Grintz, “Ashkenaz,” in Encyclopedia Judaica (New York: Macmillan, 2007), 569. 29 While Frankfurt was also home to a major Reform temple and Ashkenazi community and synagogue, Sephardic Jews (a group with roots in Portugal and Spain) had their own synagogue and, in general, wielded more influence in the city than the Ashkenazim. Zvi Avneri and Stefan Rohrbacher, “Hamburg,” in Encyclopedia Judaica (New York: Macmillan, 2007), 295-297.
12
Synagogue music within Ashkenazi communities maintained many of the traditional forms,
melodies, and customs, but also absorbed musical influences from the surrounding European
cultures. While some embraced these changes, many others viewed them as a threat to Jewish
community and identity due to the loss of a tradition preserved for thousands of years. As Jewish
communities expanded farther away from each other and their ancestral homeland, a common
liturgy and music helped provide a sense of stability and lineage. The comfort of a communal
identity was especially necessary to the Ashkenazim in the face of disenfranchisement, civic
expulsion, public violence, and widespread prejudice. The music of the synagogue, which served
as the literal vehicle for prayers and worship, was thus a closely-guarded aspect of Jewish
identity and vociferously defended against any who might corrupt its purity with Christian or
secular musics.
Although Ashkenazi Jews often lived separately from non-Jewish populations (whether
by choice or state-enforced policy), cultural exchange between both groups in art, scholarship,
and music was widespread. In Jewish Music in its Historical Development, Abraham Idelsohn
analyzes the relationship between Ashkenazi synagogue music and German song, specifically
through shared melodies and modified scales. While Idelsohn’s method of comparison cannot
provide exact dates or centuries, it is a valuable tool in understanding how Jewish music adapted
specific musical characteristics of the majority culture and vice versa. Within Minnesong, a
genre of secular monophonic song that flourished in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth
centuries, and Church melodies originating in the same period, Idelsohn finds examples of
Jewish scales and melodic motives. Within Ashkenazi melodies of the same period, Idelsohn
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also identifies a considerable number that utilize the major scale, a trait that was associated with
the Minnesong.30
Over the centuries, German influences both subtle and obvious accumulated within
traditional prayers and songs of the Ashkenazim.31 Throughout Western Europe, rabbis and
Jewish authorities were aware of this influence and many viewed it negatively as a sign of moral
degradation that broke from traditional law. Aside from the gradual incorporation of German
musical elements within the liturgy, many hazzanim would also adapt popular non-Jewish
melodies into their performances, a practice that was found in Jewish communities from
Germany to Italy. Rabbi Samuel Archevolt, writing from sixteenth-century Venice, was outraged
by this practice: “How can we justify the actions of a few hazzanim of our day, who chant the
holy prayers to tunes of popular secular songs? While reading sacred texts they are thinking of
obscenities and lewd lyrics.”32 Lay members of the synagogue were also complicit in this
practice—in seventeenth-century Frankfurt, Rabbi Joseph Hahn complained about his
congregation’s habit of using Christian melodies during private worship in the home.33
Musical Innovations of the Hazzanim
Hazzanim, in addition to inserting Christian and secular tunes into their prayers and
benedictions, also adopted popular stylistic traits associated with opera and music of the Church.
30 Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 147. 31 It is essential to note, however, that the overall musical character of Jewish worship remained relatively stable in comparison to that of the Church. Until the reforms of the early nineteenth century, the hazzanim largely upheld the traditions of cantillation, prayer modes, and synagogue melodies. 32 Jacobson, “We Hung Up Our Harps,” 43. 33 Idelsohn, 133. The struggle for rabbinical control of private, acculturated worship reflected here will eventually become essential to understanding the success and controversy surrounding the New Reform Temple.
14
Salamone Rossi (ca. 1570-ca. 1630), a Jewish composer and musician employed by the Duke of
Mantua, was famous for writing both secular and sacred music in the popular Italian style of the
day. Aside from his work in the court (where he was the only Jewish musician), Rossi served as
the hazzan for the local synagogue and lived in the city’s ghetto, a small neighborhood that Jews
were required to inhabit.34 Although his thirteen books of madrigals, canzoni, and other similar
forms are remarkable in themselves, Rossi’s true innovation was a collection of Hebrew-texted
religious songs titled Hashirim asher lish’lomo (The Songs of Solomon), published in 1623.35
Unlike the monophonic and modal melodies typical of synagogue song, Rossi’s songs were
polyphonic, recorded in Western notation, and, though conservative in their homophony, drew
upon “trio sonata-like textures and Italianate vocal devices.”36 In several motets, however, Rossi
did incorporate sections utilizing the traditional modal style of the synagogue, in which the
congregation or the hazzan would enter the texture.37
Rabbi Leon Modena (1571-1648), an advocate for reformed liturgy in the synagogue,
encouraged Rossi to write Hashirim; realizing that this music would be ill received due to the
prohibitions placed on music in the synagogue, Modena also wrote a long preface to the
publication to defend the songs. Although other rabbis accused Rossi of polluting the synagogue
with Christian music, Modena argued that the songs of Ha-Shirim were “restoring the crown of
music to its original state as in the days of the Levites on their platforms,”38 referring to the
34 Joshua R. Jacobson, “Art Music and Jewish Culture in Late Renaissance Italy,” in The Cambridge Companion to Jewish Music, ed. Joshua S. Walden (New York: Cambridge University, 2015), 143-145. 35 Iain Fenlon, “Rossi, Salamone,” Grove Music Online, accessed March 8, 2018. http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.bgsu.edu:8080/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000023896. 36 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 143. 37 Jacobson, “Art Music and Jewish Culture in Late Renaissance Italy,” 147. 38 Ibid., 153.
15
Example 1.1: Excerpt from Hashirim asher lish’lomo, Canto Part Book39
39 Salomone Rossi, Hashirim asher lish’lomo (Venice: Pietro e Lorenzo Bragadino, 1623).
16
impressive vocal and instrumental music of the Second Temple. Modena’s argument that the use
of non-Jewish music in the synagogue marks a return to musical greatness of the past was
deployed in a very similar manner by Israel Jacobson almost two hundred years later, reflecting
the perpetual nature of the conflict between inner preservation and outward innovation within
sacred Jewish music.
Ashkenazi hazzanim were also criticized for their increasingly virtuosic performances
during this period, as they distracted the congregation and the hazzan himself from the content
and meaning behind the liturgy. Rabbi Herz Treves, rabbi and hazzan in Frankfurt during the
first half of the sixteenth century, wrote that “[Hazzanim] have ceased to be writers of Torah,
Tefillin, Megilloth; nor do they care for the correct grammatical reading nor for the meaning of
the prayers—only for their songs, without regard for the real sense of the words. They neglect
the traditional tunes of their ancestors.”40 Following the rise of opera, hazzanim appropriated
many of the genre’s dramatic techniques to enrapture the congregation, in one case extending the
length of a typically brief prayer (Baruch she’omar) to over an hour. In addition to lengthening
melismas and improvisatory sections, hazzanim emphasized words or phrases with extreme
coloratura, embellishments, repetition, and vocal devices like sobs and trills.41 These innovations
represent an alternative view of the function of music within the synagogue, one concerned with
inspiring feelings of surprise, ecstasy, and excitement in the listener.42
As hazzanim and their congregations became more invested in creating a grandiose
musical environment within the synagogue, instrumental music began to return to a handful of
40 Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 204. 41 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 146. 42 The ideal of inspiring emotion through musical performance, often referred to as the Doctrine of the Affections, was powerful during the Baroque period. By depicting one of the passions through music, it was believed that the composer could literally affect the body of the listener, either bringing their emotions into harmony or putting them out of balance.
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cities. On Friday evenings in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the synagogues of Prague
featured organ and a small orchestra to accompany religious songs; this practice was also
imitated in smaller towns like Nikolsburg and Offenbach.43 In cities like Frankfurt, Amsterdam,
Hamburg, and Prague, synagogues began to incorporate choral music at the beginning of the
eighteenth century, a practice that evolved from the traditional vocal assistants known as
meshorerim.44
As expected, many rabbis were highly displeased with these changes and issued orders of
repentance for those who brought non-traditional styles of music into the synagogue.45 Many of
the criticisms levied were primarily concerned with the hazzanim “show[ing] off with sweet
voices and fine singing”46 and thus “neglect[ing] both the traditional tunes and the principal parts
of the ritual.”47 The hazzanim were careful, however, to maintain traditional melodies, modes,
and styles of singing alongside the newly-incorporated European elements. Idelsohn argues that
this point forms the key difference between the gradual “Europeanization” of Ashkenazi
synagogue music explored thus far and the progressive reformers of the early nineteenth century:
[The] activity [of eighteenth-century hazzanim] was but the attempt to satisfy the hunger for music of both singers and public… Despite the opposition of the spiritual leaders and spirited Jews, they gave to the masses what they liked, namely, the music heard in the Christian environment.48
43 In Prague, these performances were forcibly canceled in 1793 due to musicians playing after sunset and breaking the Sabbath. Idelsohn, 205 44 Meshorerim, or singers, were two male vocalists, usually a boy soprano and an adult bass, that would assist the hazzan in singing the prayers. This practice dated from at least the early seventeenth century and continued in some synagogues well into the nineteenth century. These singers would improvise harmonies and also sing virtuosic solos similar to an instrument. Frühauf, The Organ and its Music, 18-22. 45Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 208. 46 Ibid., 208. 47 Ibid., 209. 48 Ibid., 232.
18
On the other hand, reformers like Israel Jacobson made an effort to remove all traces of
traditional synagogue music such as cantillation and the prayer modes in order to realize a new
mode of Jewish worship and German identity. Unlike the ongoing exchange between Jewish and
German culture seen through the changing character of synagogue melodies or the performance
by hazzanim of secular songs in the traditional Jewish style, Jacobson’s innovations were
deliberate and calculated—by transforming the music of Jewish worship, he hoped to transform
the image of Jewish identity itself.
Synagogue Music in Berlin
Before the New Reform Temple was founded in 1815, its home city of Berlin held one of
the most intellectually and culturally vibrant Jewish communities in Western Europe. The origin
of the city’s nineteenth-century Jewish population can be traced to 1671, when Elector Frederick
William invited two wealthy Viennese Jewish families to reside in Berlin. The decision to
reverse the 1572 expulsion and ban of Jews living in the city was in no way altruistic; rather, the
Electorate was in extreme need of funds to restore the military and countryside following the
ravages of the Thirty Year War.49 In addition to their wealth, the Jewish families brought a
number of Jewish domestic staff, rabbis, teachers, and butchers to serve their needs; soon, Berlin
gained a reputation among European Jews for its relatively favorable living conditions.50
The allowances made by the city government, however, did not permit the construction of
a public synagogue until the first years of the eighteenth century. After collecting an exorbitant
amount of money, the Berlin Jews constructed the large and lavishly decorated Alte Synagoge,
49 Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 18. 50 Ibid., 22.
19
which held its first service in 1714.51 The space reflected the wealth and pride of the Jewish
financiers that had funded it: the inside of the synagogue was around 30 feet tall and grandly
decorated, consisting of a vaulted nave with immense windows along three of the four walls.
Carol Herselle Krinsky describes the inner layout as depicted in a contemporary engraving of the
synagogue (Fig. 1.1): “The ceiling’s covered panels rose to a slightly depressed elongated
octagonal panel which emphasized the center of the room, where the large bimah was
placed...The ark was tall and lavishly carved with two tiers of columns and undulating
cornices… The building in Berlin had the bright, clear, and straightforward appearance of a
Protestant church.”52
The central placement of the bimah, the raised platform from which the rabbi read the
Torah, was common in most Ashkenazi synagogues of the time. While the women stood in the
upper gallery, the men sat in horizontal rows of pews to the left and right of the bimah, facing the
intricately-decorated ark on the east wall in which the scroll of the Torah were kept. It was
considered a sign of respect to look toward the ark, the holiest part of the synagogue; the
congregation’s focus was meant to be on the word of God, not the rabbi and cantor responsible
for leading the service.53
The Heidereutergasse Synagoge represented in many ways the traditional practice of
Ashkenazi synagogue music during the eighteenth century. The rabbis of the synagogue were
highly conservative, especially in the face of increasing magical and messianic sects among
51 Ibid., 24. 52 Carol Herselle Krinsky, Synagogues of Europe: Architecture, History, Meaning (Mineola, NY: Dover, 1985), 261 53 Joseph Gutmann and Steven Fine, “Synagogue,” in Encyclopedia of Religion, 2nd ed. (New York: Macmillan, 2005), 8920-8926.
20
Figure 1.1: Engraving of the Heidereutergasse Synagogue by A.M. Werner, ca. 172054
54 Krinsky, Synagogues of Europe, 262.
21
Ashkenazim.55 Musically, however, the synagogue became considerably less conventional with
the 1765 appointment of Aaron Beer as hazzan. As one of the first musically-trained hazzanim,
Beer spent much of his career both transcribing and composing prayer settings and synagogue
songs in Western notation. He left behind a collection of over 1,200 compositions taken from a
variety of sources including himself, contemporary composers, and traditional synagogue
music.56
Of particular note is Beer’s version of Kol Nidre, a well-known prayer recited at the
beginning of Yom Kippur that has been set by a number of Jewish composers; Idelsohn notes
that the first version was dated to 1720 and a variation of it to 1783 (see Appendix A).57
The musical line, characteristic in its use of Jewish modes and motives, was intended to be sung
by the hazzan alone, a desire which Beer made explicit in the introduction to a 1791 collection of
synagogue songs for use in the Alte Synagoge.58
Conclusion
Although the traditional music of the synagogue maintained much of its original stylistic
character even into the eighteenth century, non-Jewish cultures and the Jews who advocate for
their value have left their marks, whether subtle or otherwise. As a natural consequence of
55 Underlining the intense orthodoxy among the Berlin rabbis, Hertz relates a 1738 anecdote in which a congregant named Jeremias Cohen was turned away from the Sabbath service due to his shaved face and wig. Hertz also notes the increasing number of complaints from rabbis about Christian dress among Jews during this period. Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 26-31. 56 Rubin and Baron, Music in Jewish History and Culture, 166. 57 Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 159-160. 58 Beer’s remarks were given as an explanation for his decision to compose a year-long cycle: “if a person hear a tune but once a year, it will be impossible for him to sing with the cantor during the service, and therefore he will not be able to confuse the hazzan. It has become a plague to the hazzanim to have the members of the congregation sing the song.” Ibid., 218.
22
Jewish migration (although the migration itself was often not elective), the music of the
synagogue absorbed musical aspects from many of the different peoples with which Jews shared
space and cultural ties. The hazzanim, responsible for transmitting the oral tradition of Jewish
music, incorporated popular melodies and vocal techniques that astounded their congregations
and moved them to greater heights of devotion. Some more radical figures, like Salamone Rossi
and Leon Modena, envisioned a synthesis of Jewish and non-Jewish music within the synagogue,
though their work was quickly forgotten.
As the impulse toward national identity began to coalesce at the end of the eighteenth
century, Israel Jacobson began encountering new ideas about civic emancipation, religious
tolerance, and educational reform in the city of Braunschweig. Along with a group of like-
minded advocates, Jacobson founded a series of temples in Seesen, Kassel, and eventually Berlin
that would embody his vision of liturgical and musical reform.
23
CHAPTER II: ISRAEL JACOBSON’S AGENDA OF MUSICAL REFORM IN SEESEN
Before Israel Jacobson moved to Berlin in 1815, he honed his program of religious
reform in Braunschweig, capital city of the Principality of Braunschweig-Wolfenbüttel. As a
financier to Duke Karl Wilhelm Ferdinand, in 1801 Jacobson used his money and influence to
open a school for Jewish and Christian boys modeled after the ideals of Jewish philosopher
Moses Mendelssohn. After Napoleon captured Braunschweig in 1806 and incorporated it into the
short-lived Kingdom of Westphalia, Jacobson was appointed head of the Jewish Consistory, a
board responsible for managing Jewish affairs in the Kingdom. In this position, Jacobson sought
to enact an agenda of religious reform, opening temples in Seesen, the site of his first school, and
Kassel, where he founded another school in 1808. In this chapter, I will present an overview of
the ideological currents that informed Jacobson’s reforms, outline the music and liturgy of the
1810 consecration of the Jacobstempel (as the temple in Seesen was referred to), and delineate
the relationship between Jacobson’s musical and political agendas.
The Influence of the Haskalah
In the history of Jews in Western Europe, the late-eighteenth and early-nineteenth
centuries are regarded as a period of emancipation and cultural transformation, eventually
resulting in the reforms of 1812 and later advances in Jewish rights throughout Western Europe.
The German Enlightenment, or Aufklärung, brought about a new attitude of religious tolerance
among educated Christians, and upper- and middle-class Jews the desire to more fully participate
in mainstream society. One of the most famous figures of the Aufklärung, even among
Christians, was the Jewish philosopher Moses Mendelssohn (1729-1786), grandfather to Felix
24
Mendelssohn. During the last decades of the eighteenth century, Mendelssohn lobbied for
changes within the Jewish community alongside other Jewish intellectuals, including Isaac
Euchel (1756-1804), Hartwig Wessely (1725-1805), and Isaac Satanow (1733-1805). Through
education and modernization, Mendelssohn and his cohort hoped to create an attitude of religious
tolerance across all aspects of society that would grant equality to the Jews. Centered in Berlin,
this movement became known as the Haskalah (in Hebrew, “wisdom” or “erudition”) and
engendered a revitalization of the Hebrew language and literature through societies, education,
and writing.1
The maskilim, as advocates of the Haskalah were known, looked outward as well as
inward, focusing on the larger and much more challenging task of civic emancipation for the
Jews. Before the nineteenth century, Jews had few if any rights within European states—they
were barred from settling in some cities and, even if they were granted residency, were also
legally restricted to living in certain neighborhoods known in ghettos (as referred to in Chapter 1
during the discussion of Salomone Rossi) and subject to public violence, punitive regulations,
and unforeseen evictions.2 In 1744, for example, Maria Theresa of Austria expelled every Jew
within Prague, Bohemia, and Moravia based on the groundless suspicion that they had worked
with the Prussians during the War of the Austrian Succession.3 In the eyes of European
governments, “no Jew was, or could be, a member of (civil) society. No metter how learned or
1 David Sorkin, “Mendelssohn, Moses,” in Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (Oxford: Oxford University, 2002), http://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref/9780195104301.001.0001/acref-9780195104301-e-446. 2 David Vital, A People Apart: The Jews in Europe, 1789-1939 (New York: Oxford University, 1999), 2-9. 3 Ibid., 1.
25
wealthy or contingently influential he might be within or without Jewry itself, a Jew was held to
belong to a moral and, of course, theological category inferior to that of the meanest peasant.”4
In order to overcome this prejudice and advance the cause of emancipation, some
maskilim advocated for a new system of education that would make Jews more valuable to the
state. Through the creation of free, public institutions like the Jüdische Freischule Berlin,
founded in 1778, maskilim were able to provide an alternative to traditional Jewish schools in
which male students studied religious texts under a rabbi and spoke in Hebrew or Yiddish.
Institutions like the Freischule taught an expanded curriculum of practical skills and trades to
young men in German. By teaching subjects like agriculture and carpentry, the maskilim sought
to divert children from entering the traditionally Jewish career of finance and create a young
generation of Jews who could be productive members of the state. If Jews could be recognized as
adding objective value to wider society, their thinking went, the maskilim could make a much
stronger argument for Jewish emancipation.5
This focus on education and inward change was a perspective shared by Israel Jacobson,
an ardent admirer of Moses Mendelssohn and similar Jewish thinkers. Unlike Mendelssohn,
however, Jacobson believed that Jewish worship itself was in need of reform. Next to the schools
he built in the small town of Seesen and the city of Kassel, Jacobson built his own synagogues,
to which he referred as temples. Within these spaces, Jacobson worked closely with Christian
clergy and local rabbis to create a new form of Jewish worship that brought together the German
language, music influenced by the Lutheran tradition, and Jewish texts and prayers.
4 “Frederick II: The Charter Decreed for the Jews of Prussia (April 17, 1750),” in Mendes-Flohr and Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World, 22-27. 5 Isaac Einstein-Barzilay, “The Ideology of the Berlin Haskalah,” Proceedings of the American Academy for Jewish Research 25 (1956): 33-37.
26
Israel Jacobson: Educational and Religious Reformer
As a young Jewish boy growing up in the latter half of the eighteenth century, Jacobson
received a piecemeal and unsystematic education—his father, also a financier, taught him
primarily from sacred Jewish texts and rabbinic literature so that Jacobson could read and write
in Hebrew, but gave little instruction to his son in French, German, and secular topics.6 While
Jacobson went on to attend the University of Helmstedt where he encountered German literature
and philosophers like Mendelssohn,7 many Jewish children received the same or much less
education, especially those from small towns or poor families.8 During his time at the University,
Jacobson came to believe, as Mendelssohn had before, that improving education was the key to
bettering the social and civic status of Jews in Germany. Instead of the isolated liturgical
education provided by rabbis in Hebrew or Yiddish, Jacobson wanted to ground Jewish
education in German language and culture and provide skill-based education in practical fields—
a model that hewed closely to the Judische Freischule.9
Jacobson first enacted these ideals in 1801 by opening a school for boys in Seesen (often
referred to as the Jacobsschule), a small town located on the northwestern edge of the Harz
Mountains in what is today the German state of Lower Saxony. By May 1802, 47 Christian and
Jewish students attended the Jacobsschule; Jacobson also shared Mendelssohn’s belief in
religious tolerance, so coeducation was an essential aspect of his mission.10 In 1809, Jacobson
established a second school in Kassel that shared the same academic mission and program,
providing a free German education in reading, writing, arithmetic, music, and trades to boys
6 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 15. 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid., 21. 9 Ibid., 20-22. 10 The Christian boys in attendance were, like the Jewish students, largely from rural and less wealthy families. Jacobson financed the school himself. Ibid., 24.
27
from local Jewish and Christian families. Both schools held abbreviated religious services for
students and parents that used both Hebrew and German; in Kassel, Jacobson removed all
cantillation and chant in favor of recitation and silent prayer. The services would generally
conclude with a German or Hebrew hymn in chorale style sung by the entire congregation.11
Although some religious services were held for students since 1802, Jacobson
constructed and dedicated a public temple directly across from the Jacobsschule in 1810.12 The
exterior of the Seesen Temple (also referred to today as the Jacobstempel in German) was built
in a classicist style with some rococo influences and featured a bell tower and clock, a feature
typical of Protestant churches rather than synagogues.13 Originally, the temple was designed to
resemble a grand church in size and ornamentation, but after local Christians protested the
similarity, the size of the temple was greatly reduced.14 Although the Temple was destroyed in
1938 during the Kristallnacht pogrom, a scale wooden replica of the structure is on permanent
exhibit in the Seesen Municipal Museum (Figure 2.1).
The interior layout of the Jacobstempel was also very similar to contemporary Protestant
churches (Figure 2.2) and unlike traditional synagogues of the time. The most notable feature of
the Temple was the large, impressive organ that was commissioned and built for the Temple
itself (Figure 2.3). Mounted in a loft at the end of the Temple that was opposite to the ark, the
organ, is proportional and balanced in its design, reflecting the Classicist architecture of the
Temple itself.15 Unlike traditional Jewish spaces of worship such as the Alte Synagoge of Berlin,
11 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 38. 12 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 85. 13 Ibid., 86. 14 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 41. 15 Frassl, Die Jacobson-Schule in Seesen, 86-87.
28
Figure 2.1: Wooden Model, Jacobstempel16
Figure 2.2: Interior of the Jacobstempel17
16 “Synagoge,” Jacobson-Haus, http://jacobson.haus/?p=70. 17 Hubert Jahns, “1810-2010: 200 Jahre Synagoge Seesen, 200 Jahre Synagogenorgel,” City Administration of Seesen, http://www.stadtverwaltung-seesen.de/index.php?La=1&&object=tx%7C1601.131.1&kat=&kuo=1&sub=0.
29
Figure 2.3: Organ of the Jacobstempel, photographed in 191018
the Jacobstempel featured a raised lectern for the giving of sermons at the far wall, next to the
ark. The bimah, or reader’s platform, was also moved closer to the ark from its normal position
in the center of the room. These changes served to center the congregation’s vision and attention
on the rabbi, preacher, and hazzan, all of whom occupied the designated spaces at different
points throughout services. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the traditional location of the
bimah in the middle of the synagogue meant that at least half of the congregation was unable to
see the rabbi or hazzan; the congregation’s visual focus on the ark mimicked their mental and
spiritual focus on the Torah and God. One spatial aspect that was maintained in the
Jacobstempel, however, was the separation of men and women; men sat in the main lower level
18 Frassl, Die Jacobson-Schule in Seesen, 87.
30
while women occupied galleries along the three walls of the building that faced the ark.19 Both
the exterior and interior design of the Temple served to reinforce Jacobson’s guiding belief of
equality between Christians and Jews; as Michael Meyer comments, “Taken as a whole, the
structure made a social statement: Jews worship as do Christians; they are their equals in religion
as in civil life. No longer an Oriental, foreign faith transplanted to Europe, Judaism—like
Christianity—is homeborn in the accoutrements of its worship no less than its loyalty to the
state.”20 As I will discuss in the next section, the music of the Jacobstempel underlined this
ideological alignment in a similar manner.
The Consecration of the Jacobstempel
On July 17, 1810, the Jacobstempel in Seesen hosted over 100 guests during its official
consecration, a day-long event extensively chronicled in Sulamith, a periodical which served as a
primary mouthpiece for the early Jewish Reform movement.21 This article, published in the same
year as the consecration, provides a detailed look at the contents of Jacobson’s reform service,
especially in regards to the use of music and German. Here, I will provide a descriptive timeline
19 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 41. 20 Here, Meyer’s use of the descriptor “Oriental” is not in reference to East Asia, but to the Middle East. In his 1944 book Jewish Music in its Historical Development, Idelsohn uses the term to describe musical features more commonly associated with music of the Middle East, such as non-diatonic modes and non-metrical rhythms. Meyer’s statement also adumbrates the widespread belief that Jews were exotic and alien to Europe, a difference that was defined as much by ethnicity as by traditional dress, rituals, and worship. Ibid., 41. 21 Sulamith was founded in 1806 by David Fränkel and Joseph Wolf, two educators associated with the Jewish Free School in Dessau. Both men were also highly influenced by the ideals of the Haskalah. For a more thorough investigation of the ideology of Sulamith, see Benjamin Maria Baader, Gender, Judaism, and Bourgeois Culture in Germany, 1800-1870 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2006), 19-41.
31
of the 1810 consecration paraphrased from the anonymous author’s article in Sulamith, with
discussion and analysis to follow.22
At 8:00 am, the diverse group of attendees began to gather in the schoolhouse in
preparation for the ceremonial procession to the temple. As the bells of the temple began to ring,
the group formed into a ranked parade and headed in silence to the temple’s nave. Jacobson
followed a collection of teachers and students from the Jacobsschule holding flags; behind him in
sequence came the county prefect, fellow members of the Westphalian Jewish Consistory, clergy
and rabbis in their ceremonial clothing, the mayor and vice-mayor of Seesen, local nobility, civil
servants, and finally the remainder of the crowd. In describing the different groups present, the
article’s author emphasizes their diverse social and religious backgrounds as well as the friendly
atmosphere among them. After the attendees were seated, an ensemble of 60-70 singers and
musicians standing in the organ loft performed a short cantata written for the occasion by Johann
August Günther Heinroth (1773-1843), a music teacher employed at the Jacobsschule. Following
the cantata, Jacobson gave a German-language sermon from the bimah in which he laid out the
motivation and justification behind his new temple and service, underlining the ideal of Christian
and Jewish equality and the similarities between both religions.
If the author is correct in his observations, the traditional liturgy used during the Saturday
morning service was heavily foreshortened for the July 17th consecration.23 After his sermon,
Jacobson and a number of assisting rabbis removed the Torah from the ark and completed the
22 “Feyerliche Einweihung des Jacobs-Tempels in Seesen,” Sulamith 3, no. 1 (1810): 298-317. Translation by Dr. Arne Spohr. 23 Jacobson was known for trimming the length of the Sabbath service: he and his fellow members of the Westphalian Jewish Consistory had passed numerous guidelines that removed various rituals and prayers from Jewish worship throughout the Kingdom. He did the same several years later in the liturgy of the New Reform Temple in Berlin, which will be discussed in depth in Chapter 3.
32
traditional processions around the temple. Jacobson then loudly read a selection from the Torah
in both Hebrew and German—this is notable not only for its additional language, but also
because Jacobson recited the text plainly, eschewing the traditional practice of cantillation in
which texts are sung semi-improvisatorially according to specific modes and formulas (see
Chapter 1 for more information on this musical practice). The role of the hazzan, the person
responsible for praying and cantillating the text, was likewise absent from this service and all
others held in the Jacobstempel. Once Jacobson had finished and the Torah was returned to the
ark, Bernard Schott, the director of the Jacobsschule, and Jeremiah Heinemann, a member of the
Jewish Consistory, gave short speeches. In between the two, the congregation, choir, and
musicians sang a chorale with text by Jacobson in Hebrew and German successively,
accompanied by the temple’s large, newly-constructed organ. A final performance by the choir
brought the service to a close, after which Jacobson and the congregation moved to the
schoolhouse for a formal lunch in which celebratory poems were recited. The group then made a
champagne toast to King Jérôme-Napoléon Bonaparte, ruler of Westphalia, accompanied by
kettle drums and trumpets.24
As revealed in his sermon, Jacobson believed that Jews ought to make their mode of
worship more compatible with the surrounding state and culture, removing “the ceremonial
husks” of tradition to “bring forth the original religion in its ancient purity.”25 The musical
character of Jacobson’s new service differed greatly from the typical Ashkenazi service
described in Chapter 1. Perhaps the most radical change made by Jacobson, as noted by Idelsohn,
was that “he abolished the chanting of the Pentateuch and Prophets according to traditional
24 As the youngest brother of Napoleon Bonaparte, Jérôme-Napoléon Bonaparte was appointed ruler of Westphalia after his elder brother conquered and combined a number of states within Northwestern Germany. 25 “Feyerliche Einweihung,” Sulamith; cited and paraphrased in Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 80-81.
33
modes as well as the unrhythmic prayer modes, and together with these he discarded the hazzan.
He himself read the service without any chant, according to the manner of reading the Bible text
and prayers in the Protestant Church.”26
Jacobson, wearing robes similar to those of a Lutheran pastor, also gave a sermon in
German that had a style more typically associated with Protestant preachers—instead of the
moralistic discussion of an ethical issue found in contemporary rabbinical sermons, Jacobson’s
address focused on laying out his image of a new Judaism with a closer relationship to
Christianity.27 While the changes made to Jewish worship under the banner of reform are often
interpreted through a lens of modernization as an attempt to remove the stigma of backwardness
from Judaism, Jacobson and his allies relied on the argument that they were actually seeking to
return the religion to its pure and ancient state. Reformers justified their removal of even codified
practices like cantillation by arguing that they were the gradual result of cultural accumulation,
not an essential aspect of Jewish belief.28 This restorative mindset is further illustrated by
Jacobson’s decision to use the word “temple” instead of “synagogue”—rhetorically, “temple”
signifies an attempt to return to the glory of Solomon’s Temple and the Second Temple, and
move away from the negative connotations associated with the synagogue by Christian
Europeans.29 Another benefit to this linguistic turn was that it underlined the common origin and
ethical systems of Judaism and Christianity. Beyond that, this perspective provided a rational
basis to argue for Jewish emancipation by rebutting the image of Jews as an alien population. It
is important to note, however, that in his writings and actions, Jacobson preserved the essential
26 In referring to “unrhythmic prayer modes,” Idelsohn is describing the method of melodic prayer used by hazzanim that is performed outside of a consistent, metrical pulse. Idelsohn, 236. 27 The most striking difference between Jacobson’s sermon and typical rabbinical sermons, however, was that Jacobson used German instead of Hebrew. Meyer, Response to Modernity, 42. 28 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 62-63. 29 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 42.
34
theology of Judaism; while he may have attempted to minimize the differences between both
religions, he never advocated for the taking up of Christian dogmas.
Johann August Günther Heinroth’s Cantata
While Jacobson’s sermon explicitly stated to the congregation his desire to bring
Judaism’s rituals and outward character closer to that of Christianity, the music of the service,
like the design of the tmple itself, provided an essential demonstration of Jacobson’s worldview.
The decision to begin the service with a cantata, a genre almost exclusively associated with the
Lutheran Church in Germany, is especially significant. Johann August Günther Heinroth wrote
the work specifically for the consecration of the Jacobstempel; although he was a Christian, he
served as music instructor at the Jacobsschule from 1804 to 1818 where he also composed and
arranged chorales for Jewish worship.30 Although Heinroth is rarely mentioned in academic
accounts of early Jewish Reform, he played an essential role in Seesen and later Berlin; in
addition to organizing the musical education of the school boys, Heinroth also worked closely
with Jacobson in the arrangement of chorale tunes and other music used within the service.31 The
depth of Heinroth’s relationship to Jewish Reform is at least partially reflected in an 1848
Reform songbook edited by Eduard Kley (1789-1867), a preacher at the New Reform Temple in
Berlin also known for writing hymn texts. After spending two years working with Jacobson in
Berlin, Kley moved to Hamburg where he began an extremely successful temple that followed
Jacobson’s liturgical agenda. In the preface to this collection of melodies for use in the
30 Ulrich Konrad, “Johann August Günther Heinroth: Ein Beitrag zur Göttinger Musikpflege und Musikwissenschaft im 19. Jahrhundert,” in Musikwissenschaft und Musikpflege an der Georg-August-Universität Göttingen: Beiträge zu ihrer Geschichte, ed. Martin Staehelin (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1987), 47. 31 Ibid., 47.
35
synagogue, Kley thanks several composers for their contributions, though he wryly notes that all
three of them were deceased by that point—Heinroth was responsible for 11 out of the 90
included in the edition. Although Kley does not include a particular year of composition for any
of the melodies, he indicates that the book is meant as a companion to a collection of song texts
he published in 1818, shortly after leaving Berlin.32 Although Heinroth succeeded Johann
Nikolaus Forkel as music director at the University of Göttingen in 1818, the position for which
he is most commonly remembered, the longevity of his musical settings and respect accorded to
him by Kley indicates that he held a significant role in the music of early Jewish Reform.
In the Sulamith report discussed earlier, the author also mentions that Heinroth’s cantata
was later performed at the nearby Seesen City Church (“Stadtkirche”) for a benefit concert.33
The fact that the cantata was deemed appropriate for performance in both the Jacobstempel and
the local church underlines the close relationship between Jacobson’s Reform and Christianity.
Furthermore, it is likely that the text of the cantata performed at the consecration avoided
expressing specifically Christian or Jewish ideas in order to be suitable for both religious
contexts. A later cantatine, or small cantata, composed by Giacomo Meyerbeer for the services in
Berlin adopted this textual strategy, lending credence to this possibility.
Although I have been unable to locate the title, text, or score of this cantata, a list of
Heinroth’s works compiled by Ulrich Konrad provides clues as to its character. Heinroth’s listed
compositions are primarily small genres and pedagogical in nature, reflecting his background as
32 Eduard Kley, ed., Melodien zu dem Israelitischen Gesangbuche (Hamburg: B.G. Berendsohn, 1848). The use of the word Israelitischen in place of Jewish in the title of this book is part of a larger trend among Reform-minded Jews in the nineteenth century. Many, including Israel Jacobson, referred to themselves as Israeliten or Mosaiten with the goal of shedding the national connotations of “Jew” and more closely aligning themselves with their religious beliefs. This concept is explored in Meyer, Response to Modernity, 30. 33 “Feyerliche Einweihung,” Sulamith;
36
an educator—only one cantata is attributed to Heinroth, Heilig ist der Herr, Gott Zebaoth, which
was performed at the consecration of the Göttingen University Church in 1822 but lacks an
extant score.34 Considering the partly secular nature of this space and the ceremony being
celebrated during this performance, Helig ist der Herr may be similar in style, form, and content
to the cantata Heinroth wrote for the consecration of the Jacobstempel. The text is notable in that
it lacks references to specifically Christian imagery or theology, yet it was composed by a
Christian composer and performed in a church. An English translation of the cantata’s text and
the original German are included below (Figure 2.4).35
Chorus
Holy is the Lord, God Zebaoth! All temples resound of his glory! Let us also here, in this holy space Elevate his glory through song and psalm!
Recitative
Completed is the work to glorify God, Already standing is the altar devoted to him! Congregate, to utter his praise here And adore him humbly. Ah, whoever prays here, His pleading will be heard! Congregate and sing in joyful choirs A song to his praise!
Chorus
Rejoice loudly and sing jubilant choirs At the newly consecrated altar! Only he deserves adoration, praise and honor, Who will be eternally, has been eternally. His name shall resound far and wide, Now and in all eternity.
34 Konrad, “Johann August Günther Heinroth,” 77. 35 Translation by Dr. Arne Spohr.
37
Figure 2.4: Text to Heilig ist der Herr, Gott Zebaoth, Johann August Günther Heinroth36
While it is likely that Heinroth wrote two separate cantatas, and both the music and text
for the first are simply lost, I believe that it is possible that Heilig ist der Herr, Gott Zebaoth is
the same cantata originally written for the consecration of the Jacobstempel. As mentioned
previously, this work is the only cantata listed by Ulrich Konrad in Heinroth’s worklist, both
36 Gesänge bey der Weihe der Göttingischen Universitätskirche abzusingen (Göttingen: Herbst, 1822).
38
cantatas were written for consecrations, and both lack overtly Christian references due to the
mixed denominations of the audiences for which they were performed (a university church, a
Jewish temple with both Christians and Jews present, and a local church benefit). Further
supporting this hypothesis is the short length of Heilig ist der Herr, which would be appropriate
for the introductory function served by the Jacobstempel cantata. Even if this cantata is not the
one that Heinroth wrote for Seesen, its brevity and lack of explicitly Christian imagery or
theology suggest that the Seesen cantata would have likely been similar in form and content.
The designations of “recitative” and “chorus,” common formal structures used within
cantatas, indicate the use of solo voice and chorus, respectively. Helig ist der Herr was also
scored for an orchestra, another generic feature of the cantata that was also seen in the Seesen
cantata; as noted in Sulamith, a large group of 60-70 instrumentalists accompanied the singers.37
With only three stanzas, the work likely lasted ten minutes or less. Although Lutheran cantatas
from the first half of the eighteenth century were known for their length and contrapuntal
complexity, by the late eighteenth century, cantatas in Germany were briefer and freer in form,
often drawing upon the text of Bible verses or simple, hymn-like poems.38
Although a broadly-natured text would be all but necessary to avoid offending the invited
Christians present at the consecration, its use would also signal Jacobson’s commitment to
bringing Christians, Jews, and their religions closer together. The text of Heilig ist der Herr
reflects certain aspects of Jacobson’s beliefs regarding the role of music in Jewish worship: for
example, the phrase “All temples resound of his Glory” not only references Jacobson’s preferred
37 “Feyerliche Einweihung,” Sulamith. 38 Friedhelm Krummacher, “The German Cantata to 1800,” in “Cantata,” Grove Music Online, accessed March 27, 2018, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.ezproxy.bgsu.edu:8080/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000004748.
39
term for Jewish worship spaces, but also depicts the shared music of worship as a common bond.
The language of musical celebration throughout the text also recalls the jubilant environment and
choirs of the Second Temple, potentially underlining Jacobson’s desire to ostensibly restore
Judaism to its ancient roots.
Lutheran-Influenced Hymnals of Reform Judaism
Another essential musical aspect of the Jacobstempel dedication was the use of chorale hymns
in German and Hebrew, sung by the congregation and accompanied by the organ. The style of
these chorales lacked the traditional markers of Ashkenazic synagogue song like the use of
modes, rhythmic freedom, or melismatic ornamentation. Instead, they were remarkably similar
to those used in Lutheran worship or, in many cases, almost entirely identical, using major and
minor melodies, simple rhythmic motion, and multiple verses. An example of a hymn that may
have been used at this service is seen in Figure 2.1 and Appendix B: Wenn ich, o Schöpfer, No. 1
in Israel Jacobson’s 1810 hymnal titled Hebräische und Deutsche Gesänge zur Andacht und
Erhauung, zunächst für die neuen Schulen der Israelitischen Jugend in Westphalen. In this
hymnal, Jacobson adopted the melodies and texts of popular Lutheran chorales, but included a
Hebrew translation of each German text in a corresponding section of the book (respectively
titled the Hebräische Gesänge and Deutsche Gesänge). In the Hebrew version seen in Figure
2.1, the music is read left to right to match the reading direction of Hebrew. By including both
versions of each hymn, both Christians and Jews, whether or not they knew Hebrew, were able
to sing together during worship. The second and third verses of the text are written below the
music, marked by a two and three in the upper right hand corners of the text. In this example, the
melody is taken from the popular Lutheran chorale Allein Gott in der Höh sei Her, originally
40
Example 2.1: Wenn ich, o Schöpfer, No. 1, 1810 Jacobson Hymnal39
39 Israel Jacobson, Hebräische und Deutsche Gesänge zur Andacht und Erhauung, zunächst für die neuen Schulen der Israelitischen Jugend in Westphalen (Kassel: Waisenhaus Buchdruckerei, 1810). I would like to thank Dr. Joachim Frassl, who shared his images of the hymnal for this project.
41
written in the sixteenth century, while the text setting is more recent, written by Christian
Fürchtegott Gellert in 1757.40
Although only one melodic line is printed in this hymnal, most chorales sung by the
congregation were performed in four-part harmony. In the 1848 Hamburg songbook referenced
earlier, Eduard Kley explains that single melodic lines were often published in books for school
children; their limited range meant that they were usually limited to singing two or three parts, he
writes, while “everyone who is musically educated can, if possible or necessary, easily add a
second voice” or more with the aid of an instrument. Kley later promises to publish a four-part
edition of his songbook for the use of “adults;” however, his wish that more synagogues would
become acquainted with chorale-style congregational singing demonstrates that even by 1848,
this style of singing was not common in the synagogue.41
As the predecessor to Kley’s Melodien zu dem Israelitischen Gesangbuch, Jacobson’s
hymnal represents a considerable shift away from traditional synagogue practice of the time and
toward that of the Lutheran Church. As discussed in Chapter 1, hazzanim of the time like Aaron
Beer were firmly against the congregation joining them in prayer as it “confused” the hazzan.42
Indeed, the partially improvised style of cantillation and synagogue song does not lend itself well
to group participation and was perceived by non-Jewish listeners as noisy and disharmonious—a
trope defined in opposition to the well-organized harmony of Christian music. In her monograph
The Music Libel Against the Jews, Ruth HaCohen explores this dichotomy in part through
40 The German text of Wenn ich o Schöpfer (which is set to the melody of Allein Gott in der Höh sei Her) can be found in Christian Fürchtegott Gellert, Geistliche Oden und Lieder (Leipzig: Weidmann,1757). 41 Kley’s explanation for the use of a single melodic line applies to Jacobson’s 1810 songbook from which Example 2.1 was extracted. The full title of the book indicates that it was written “initially for the new schools for Israelite Youth in Westphalia” (“zunächst für die neuen Schulen der Israelitischen Jugend in Westphalen”). 42 Idelsohn, Jewish Music, 128.
42
Christian accounts of synagogue visits: upon visiting the Frankfurt Synagogue in the mid-
eighteenth century, for instance, the early-Enlightenment author Johann Christian Edelmann
described the so-called “wailing,” “cat-like noises,” and “goat trills” of the congregation.43 This
discursive trope was applied in countless descriptions of Jewish worship and music, indicating an
underlying set of stereotypes: that Jews were too loud, unclean, uncivilized, and most of all,
undignified.
With these connotations in mind, the reasoning behind Jacobson’s decision to substitute
traditional synagogue music with Lutheran chorales and organ accompaniment becomes clear.
Jacobson felt few compunctions about removing cantillation and traditional synagogue song
from his service—in his mission to improve the spiritual and political welfare of Jews, he
believed that the outmoded musical style of Jewish worship was irrelevant to the moral and
devotional center of Judaism.44 In reforming the music and liturgy of the Jewish service,
Jacobson hoped to bring forth spiritual and devotional feelings that he associated with Christian
worship. The appropriation of Christian music was intended to not only modernize the service,
reflecting the congregation’s nineteenth-century German surroundings, but also to incorporate a
sense of emotional connection that Jacobson often criticized Judaism for lacking.45 As
contemporary rabbis noted, many German Jews were losing their knowledge of Hebrew46 and
could neither understand or participate in the Hebrew prayers and readings that composed the
entirety of Orthodox services.47 The use of German in the children’s services in Kassel, for
43 HaCohen, The Music Libel Against the Jews,133. 44 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 88. 45 A particularly striking example of this rhetoric is seen in Jacobson’s sermon during the Jacobstempel consecration. 46 Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 26. 47 In order to justify their service, Jacobson and his fellow Reformers often relied on the argument that they were engaging Jews who could not be served by Orthodox synagogues because they could not understand German. This argument will be further examined in Chapter
43
example, allowed the congregants to “understand what they are praying, and for this reason
exemplary quiet and holy devotion reign in this synagogue.” 48
Conclusion
The use of organ and chorale represent a direct aesthetic connection to the German
Lutheran tradition; before Jacobson, the organ was a relatively rare sight in most synagogues.49
Beyond this simple association, the organ also served to, in the words of a contemporary Jewish
observer, “regulate the wild synagogue chanting.”50 Here, the organ is imagined as a tool that
can mediate the noise of the synagogue, a clear parallel to the traveler Edelmann’s use of
animalistic language to depict the worship of Frankfurt Jews. The chorale functioned in a similar
manner, organizing the disjunct heterophony of the congregation that would often recite or hum
along with the hazzan into controlled, rhythmic, and harmonious song. Both organ and chorale
served to organize the unruly voices of the congregation into a decorous whole, reflecting
Jacobson’s desire to create a Judaism that more closely resembles Christian worship.51
3. Michael A. Meyer, “The Religious Reform Controversy in the Berlin Jewish Community,1814-1823,” Leo Baeck Insitute Year Book 24 (1979): 142.48 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 38.49 The synagogues of Prague and Venice both made use of organ to varying extents. In Venice,an organ was introduced to a city synagogue in 1628 but quickly removed after a public protest.In Prague, a visitor that attended a Friday evening service around the year 1720 described seeinghazzanim “employ together with themselves other singers of music and organ pipes, as well ascymbals and violins.” At least two of the nine synagogues in the city had organs installed and allused some form of instrumental music on Friday nights; neither instruments or organ, however,were allowed to be played during the Saturday morning Sabbath service. For a thoroughdiscussion on the historical use of the organ in German-Jewish worship, see Tina Frühauf, TheOrgan and its Music in German-Jewish Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009).50 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 49.51 Ruth HaCohen describes this widespread practice through the contemporary observations ofEuropean synagogues cited previously. The Music Libel Against the Jews, 133.
44
Until the 1813 dissolution of the Kingdom of Westphalia, Jacobson’s position as
president of the Westphalian Jewish consistory protected his schools and temple and ensured the
enforcement of the less radical reforms he imposed on Jewish congregations in the territory.
Many rabbis, however, were generally unhappy with Jacobson’s changes, especially regarding
the inclusion of German within the service. The prevailing fear, as Rabbi Samuel Levi Egar
wrote in a letter to Jacobson, was that “if we now pray in German here and the Jews of France in
French, those in Italy in Italian—the bundle will come apart.”52 Because the shared language of
Hebrew, like the shared tradition of synagogue music, served to bind together the geographically
disparate Jewish community, any localized change endangered the identity of the communal
whole. Ultimately, other Westphalian congregations declined to adopt the model of the
Jacobstempel and Jacobson lost his power in the region after the Westphalian collapse.53 By late
1814, Jacobson had moved to Berlin, the intellectual center of the Haskalah in which Jews were
regarded as Prussian citizens; drawing once again upon his connections, wealth, and influence,
Jacobson began his reforms anew.
52 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 39. 53 Ibid., 43.
45
CHAPTER III: THE NEW REFORM TEMPLE OF BERLIN, 1815-1823
As in his first temples, the musical content of the New Reform Temple in Berlin served
to strengthen Jacobson’s mission to modernize Judaism, bringing the religion closer in
appearance and ritual to Protestantism, thus bridging the gap between Jews and Christians in
Germany. Alhough Jacobson first curated the music and liturgy of Jewish Reform in Seesen and
Kassel, the social, cultural, and political currents within Berlin required a modified approach.
Due to clashes with both Orthodox Jews and King Frederick William III, Jacobson was unable to
hold his service in a public building or synagogue; instead, he relied upon his own apartments
and later the mansion of Amalia Beer (1767-1854) and Jacob Herz Beer (1769-1825), then the
wealthiest Jewish family in Berlin and host to a well-attended salon.1 Although the foundation
of Jacobson’s liturgical and musical reforms stayed intact, the atmosphere and modes of worship
within the highly aestheticized services became increasingly intimate, a development expressed
musically in their son Giacomo Meyerbeer’s 1815 Hallelujah Cantatine, a piece written
expressly for the New Reform Temple.2
Within this chapter, I will explore the ways in which the setting of Jewish Berlin affected
the reforms begun by Jacobson in Westphalia. An unprecedented increase in conversions among
the rich, acculturated Jews of Berlin combined with an already fractious religious environment
allowed the New Reform Temple to find widespread popularity. Additionally, the influence of
the salon contributed to music and worship that was more strongly informed by the model of
1 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 46-47. 2 As a reminder to the reader, I am using Deborah Hertz’s terminology of “New Reform Temple” to refer to both the services held in Jacobson’s apartments and the Beer mansion between 1815-1823. Although contemporary sources often use a variety of names like the Beer Temple or Jacobson’s Temple that differentiate the two based on their location, I believe that using a single title underlines the musical, liturgical, political, and social continuity between both settings.
46
Bildung, a form of self-edification essential to bourgeois German identity. To provide context to
these discussions, I will refer to community statistics, personal letters, a primary account
published in the nineteenth-century journal Sulamith, and contemporary criticism, among other
sources. This chapter will conclude with a detailed stylistic investigation of Meyerbeer’s
Hallelujah Cantatine that illustrates how the bourgeois ideals of Jewish Reform in Berlin were
realized in a musical setting.
Conversion Crisis among the Bildungsbürgertum
In the years predating Jacobson’s arrival, the political activism engendered by the
Haskalah in tandem with an embarrassing Prussian defeat at the hands of Napoleon led to the
1812 Edict of Emancipation, one in a series of governmental reforms.3 This law removed the
excess taxation and housing and business limitations placed on Prussian Jews and also allowed
Jews to serve in a number of state and academic appointments. In recognizing Jews as near full
subjects of the state, the Prussian government also revoked much of the power granted to
rabbinical authorities and courts in governing the Jewish population.4
These changes symbolized the growing participation of Berlin Jews in German society
and culture, especially among the wealthy. Even before emancipation was achieved, the most
3 From 1806 to 1815, Prussian statesmen Karl Freiherr vom Stein and Karl August Fürst von Hardenberg spearheaded a number of wide-ranging reforms (often referred to the Stein-Hardenberg Reforms) following a large loss of territory and immense tribute payments made to the French. Many of these reforms followed the ideals of the Enlightenment and similar liberal policies made by other European countries. A comprehensive discussion of these reforms can be found in Christopher M. Clarke, “The World the Bureaucrats Made,” in Iron Kingdom: The Rise and Downfall of Prussia, 1600-1947 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 2006), 312-344. 4 Some of these permissions were rolled back by King Frederick William III in 1822 when he barred Jews from holding higher ranks in the army and any academic or educational position. “Frederick William III: Emancipation in Prussia (March 11, 1812),” in Mendes-Flohr and Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World, 141-143.
47
prominent and highly-regarded Jewish families had achieved near social parity with their
Christian counterparts through the shared pursuit of Bildung. Historian Paul Mendes-Flohr
defines Bildung as “the educational ideal of self-cultivation,” a mode of learning which went
beyond the accumulation of knowledge to include inner reflection and appreciation of the arts.5
Because German Jews were consistently perceived as ethnic outsiders, they drew upon their
passion for German culture to solidify their connection to a national German identity. The Jewish
Bildungsbürgertum, as this educated segment of the bourgeoisie was referred to, was the most
highly acculturated segment of the Berlin Jewish population, adopting many of the practices,
ideals, and values of the dominant German culture. Many of these families also changed their
habitual language, one of the most obvious markers of Jewish difference, using German instead
of Yiddish to conduct business and associate in public.6
Jewish women such as Sara Levy (1761-1854), Henriette Herz (1764-1847), and Amalie
Beer hosted private home gatherings known as salons, liberal spaces in which Christians and
Jews from the upper and middle classes would come together to eat, listen to music and poetry,
and discuss political and philosophical issues.7 As an institution, the salon first arose in early
seventeenth-century France as “a prototype of the bourgeois public sphere,” a space which
allowed a shared discourse to develop independent of the monarchy and state power.8 Because
the salon was defined by its domestic space, women known as salonnières were appointed as
hosts and gained both authority and influence; they would guide conversations on topics of
5 Paul Mendes-Flohr, German Jews: A Dual Identity (New Haven: Yale University, 1999), 2. 6 Deborah Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 104. 7 Petra Wilhelmy-Dollinger, “Berlin Salons: Late Eighteenth to Early Nineteenth Century,” Jewish Women’s Archive, https://jwa.org/encyclopedia/article/berlin-salons-late-eighteenth-to-early-twentieth-century. 8 Emily D. Bilski and Emily Braun, “The Power of Conversation: Jewish Women and Their Salons,” in Emily D. Bilski and Emily Braun, eds., Jewish Women and Their Salons: The Power of Conversation (New York: Yale University Press, 2005), 4.
48
society, philosophy, and culture and organize readings and performances. According to the art
historians Emily D. Bilski and Emily Braun, “the salon allowed women to maneuver outside the
univocal identity of their ‘inferior’ sex, to operate visibly within and against patriarchal
authority, and to challenge openly the asymmetrical power relations between men and women.”9
Jewish women of Berlin began to host their own salons in the 1780s, motivated by the
desire to more fully participate within Christian society and European culture.10 Among these
acculturated women, most of whom studied the German language and culture as children,
Deborah Hertz writes, the salon served as “a real-life enactment of the ideal of Bildung,
encompassing education, refinement, and the development of character.”11 Some of the most
prominent Berlin salonnières were known for featuring musical performances from famous
musicians; Amalie Beer hosted musicians like Carl Maria von Weber, Muzio Clementi, Louis
Spohr, and Niccolò Paganini, and even constructed a separate concert hall in her home.12 Within
the salon, music functioned as a common point of culture among Jews and Christians, one of the
constituent aspects of the Jewish Bildungsbürgertum’s claim to German identity. Music, in the
words of musicologist Leon Botstein, also served to “connect the ethical and the aesthetic,”13
facilitating moral development within the listener.
The limited acceptance of some Berlin Jews as demonstrated by the popularity of Jewish
salons and intellectuals, however, was eventually destabilized by the Prussian war effort against
Napoleon and the French. In seeking to define themselves in opposition to the French, many
9 Ibid., 14. 10 Ibid., 16. 11 Deborah Hertz, Jewish High Society in Old Regime Berlin (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988), 3. 12 Bilski and Braun, “The Power of Conversation,” 40. 13 Leon Botsein, “Music, Femininity, and Jewish Identity: The Tradition and Legacy of the Salon,” in Jewish Women and Their Salons, Bilski and Braun, 166.
49
Prussian citizens began to develop a new concept of national selfhood defined by Christian
belief, German ethnicity, and devotion to the Prussian state. During the French occupation of
Berlin, sermons delivered by theologian Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768-1834), one of the key
figures associated with liberal German Protestantism, served to tie the groundswell of nationalist
fervor to the Lutheran Church.14 Within this landscape, an inchoate form of German identity
became deeply allied with Protestantism, a development that was felt acutely by wealthy and
educated Jews who moved within liberal circles. Ideas about the superiority of Germanic peoples
and their cultures, especially in comparison to the French and the Jews, were also gaining
traction in Berlin due to early nationalist figures like Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814), the
German Idealist philosopher, and Friedrich Ludwig Jahn (1778-1852), leader of the gymnastics
movement.15 While many Jews of the Bildungsbürgertum were previously able to claim German
heritage through their adoption of German art, literature, theater, and music, the nascent
nationalist consciousness cast all Jews as ethnic and religious outsiders.
As an alternative to the acculturated Jews’ concept of Germans as a people defined by
shared cultural values, ethnically German politicians, activists, and writers began to articulate a
new model of national identity that essentially excluded Jews from membership. The phrase
Volk, or people, developed as a shorthand to refer to a constellation of German identity defined
by “some combination of historical memory, geography, kinship, tradition, mores, religion, and
language.”16 Many Germans believed that Jews needed to convert to Christianity in order to even
consider themselves German, let alone achieve emancipation; this sentiment was expressed
14 Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 69. 15 Ibid., 71. 16 Brian C.J. Singer, “Cultural Versus Contractual Nations: Rethinking Their Opposition,” History and Theory 35, no. 3 (1996): 309-337, see 311; cited in Mendes-Flohr, German Jews, 16.
50
rather violently by Fichte who wrote in 1793: “I see absolutely no way of giving [Jews] civic
rights; except perhaps, if one night we chop off all of their heads and replace them with new
ones, in which there would not be one single Jewish idea.”17
At the same time, many acculturated Jews of the Bildungsbürgertum felt little attachment
to both traditional Jewish life and the synagogue. Contemporary observers noted that “the
synagogues were empty” and described the state of Judaism in Berlin as “chaotic,” although
these problems were seen to a lesser extent in Christian congregations as well.18 This religious
disaffection, in part, led growing numbers of Jews to convert to Christianity during the first
decades of the nineteenth century. By 1815, as evidenced in these graphs compiled by Deborah
Hertz from Nazi-era genealogical archives, conversions to Christianity among Berlin Jews had
spiked to almost 100 in a single year and the rate of conversion reached 2.8% (Figures 3.1 and
3.2). This growth was especially worrying due to its sudden onset; until the last decades of the
eighteenth century, there were fewer than ten conversions per year in the city.19
The gradual rise in conversions was both observed in the Jewish community and
considered cause for great alarm. In 1811, Jewish writer and activist David Friedländer (1750-
1834) was troubled by the monetary cost of conversion—as members of the wealthiest families
left the community, they took with them their contribution to the community tax base.20 Many
Jewish institutions such as benevolent societies and free schools which relied upon donations
17 Johann Gottlieb Fichte, “Beitrag ur Berichtung der Urteile de Publicums über die Franzöische Revolution,” in Saemtliche Werke, ed. J.H. Fichte, Vol. 6 (Berlin: Verlag von Veit, 1845), 149-150; cited in Mendes-Flohr and Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World, 309. 18 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 107. 19 Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 101. 20 Friedländer used this point to argue for the passage of Jewish emancipation in a letter to Karl August Fürst von Hardenberg; awarding full citizenship to Jews, he posited, would lead to a drop in the conversion rate and conserve community resources, allowing Jews to contribute more fully to the state. Ibid., 101.
51
Figure 3.1: Converts in Berlin, 1800-1874 (number of cases: 4,635)21
Figure 3.2: Proportion of Berlin Jews Converting22
21 Ibid., 223. 22 Ibid.
52
from the rich were also facing challenges in fundraising; this was especially problematic because
left the community, they took with them their contribution to the community tax base.23 Many
Jewish institutions such as benevolent societies and free schools which relied upon donations
from the rich were also facing challenges in fundraising; this was especially problematic because
around half of the Jewish population of Berlin lived in poverty.24 In addition to the rising trend
of conversions, the Jewish community faced weakened legal powers of the rabbinate, decreasing
synagogue attendance, and shrinking observance of traditional laws and customs.25
While many Jews looked positively toward 1812 Edict of Emancipation, newly-granted
civil rights did nothing to reverse the growing trend of conversions. On the contrary, the Edict
revoked the rabbinate’s legal jurisdiction in all areas except for familial guardianship,26
effectively removing the last vestiges of Jewish autonomy and continuing to diminish the role of
Judaism in the daily routines of Berlin Jews. In the face of this conversion crisis, acculturated but
devout Jewish families like the Itzigs and Beers searched for a way to keep well-to-do youth
within the community while also reclaiming a position of respect within Berlin society. The
impossibility of realizing a fully German-Jewish identity had come to a head, but Jacobson’s
reforms presented a new way forward.
23 Friedländer used this point to argue for the passage of Jewish emancipation in a letter to Karl August Fürst von Hardenberg; awarding full citizenship to Jews, he posited, would lead to a drop in the conversion rate and conserve community resources, allowing Jews to contribute more fully to the state. Ibid., 101. 24 Steven Lowenstein, The Berlin Jewish Community: Enlightenment, Family, and Crisis, 1770-1830 (Oxford: Oxford University, 1994), 65; cited in Ibid., 134. 25 Meyer, Response to Modernity, 141-143. 26 Mendes-Flohr and Reinharz, The Jew in the Modern World, 141-143.
53
1815: First Iteration of the New Reform Temple
After the collapse of the French-ruled Kingdom of Westphalia and with it Jacobson’s
position as head of the Westphalian Jewish Consistory, Jacobson drew upon his well-connected
contacts upon his arrival in Berlin in 1814. In previous years, Jacobson had made a name for
himself in the Prussian capital after assisting in negotiations toward the 1812 Edict of
Emancipation, the law which granted citizenship and certain rights to Jewish Berliners.27
Jacobson first settled into an apartment suite within the Itzig residence, then one of the most
prominent Jewish families in the city; after arriving, he soon began hosting pro-Reform activists
like David Friedländer, a former student of Moses Mendelssohn known for his radical opinions
on Jewish Reform.28 While Jacobson’s reforms had raised much ire in Westphalia after he
imposed a lesser version onto all the synagogues within the Kingdom, in Berlin he was greeted
as a moderate. Friedländer, for all of his essential work in obtaining emancipation, had alienated
many Jewish Berliners with his well-known desire to eradicate the “specific Jewish character of
the synagogue” and “reduce Judaism to a simple system of morals.”29
By spring of the next year, Jacobson made plans to host a private Sabbath service in his
apartment in a similar mode to his earlier services in Seesen and Kassel. Although the location
may seem strange, especially since Jacobson spent much of his own money to design and erect
purpose-built temples for his earlier services,30 domestic prayer rooms, or minyanim, were
27 Jacobson was first contacted by David Friedländer in 1812. At the time, Jacobson was a well-known figure in Haskalah circles for his successes in Westphalia, but he was also known to be a close business partner and associate of Karl August von Hardenberg, the key figure behind the 1812 Edict and numerous governmental reforms. Hertz, How Jews Became Germans, 100. 28 Jacobson and Friedländer were well acquainted with each other at this point, connected via their shared Reformist causes. As mentioned previously, Friedländer had reached out to Jacobson in 1811 for help in lobbying the government for Jewish Emancipation. 29 Caesar Seligmann, Geschichte der jüdischen Reformbewegung von Mendelssohn bis zur Gegenwart (Frankfurt am Main: Kauffmann, 1922), 70; cited in Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 108. 30 “Nachricht aus Berlin,” Sulamith 4, no. 2 (1815): 66-70.
54
common in Berlin—by 1815, there were 13 such services throughout the city (although the
practice had been banned by the government since 1750).31
Jacobson first opened his New Reform Temple to a group of invited guests in June of
1815 to celebrate his son Naphtali’s confirmation on the festival of Shavuot.32 According to an
report published in the journal Sulamith that same year, around 400 Jews were in attendance,
along with several Christian clergy and officials. Jacobson’s sermon was intended to bring about
in the congregation “the cultivation of the new spirit, the religious feeling, the elevated mood,
devotion, ethics;”33 the atmosphere of palpable emotion expressed by the article’s unknown
author is antithetical to the negative qualities perceived by Jacobson within the traditional Jewish
service: overly formulaic, legalistic, and spiritless in character.34
Following the positive reception of this first service, Jacobson held a weekly Sabbath
service in his home every Saturday morning from 8 to 10 that was attended by a mixture of Jews
and sympathetic Christians. Jacob R. Marcus recounts the musical and liturgical structure of
these services in his biography of Israel Jacobson:
The room was lit up with candles, even though it was broad daylight. Jacobson led in prayer, pronouncing the Hebrew after the Sephardic manner… Men and women sat separately. The hat, of course, was worn. There was a choir in which children sang; an organ furnished the accompaniment. Christians, too, were employed in the choir. The most important prayers were still recited in Hebrew, although there were German prayers too. German songs were sung all through the
31 Meyer, “The Religious Reform Controversy,” 141. 32 This ceremony was described in an article in Sulamith, the Jewish pro-Reform journal discussed in Chapter 2. Confirmation was practiced in some Reform circles as a replacement for the Bar Mitzvah and later the Bat Mitzvah as well. Students would learn a catechism in question-and-answer style (of which there were many by the early nineteenth century) which was intended to “demonstrate that he had learned the principles and duties of Judaism as a religion.” Meyer, Response to Modernity, 39-40. 33 Nahum N. Glatzer, “On an Unpublished Letter of Isaak Martin Jost,” Leo Baeck Institute Year Book 22, no. 1 (1977): 129. 34 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 88.
55
service… The Torah, too, was read with the Sephardic pronunciation;35 there was no Ashkenazic intoning. Before the reading of the weekly portion from the Bible, Jacobson himself would preach… The Eighteen Benedictions were not repeated; the entire Additional, or musaf, prayer was omitted. Considerations of brevity, no doubt, underlay these changes. No definite theological motives seem to have found expression in this service, which, planned in the interests of expediency, was short, attractive, and not offensive to the Gentiles.36
Although the surroundings of the service had changed drastically, the content was remarkably
similar to the structure set out previously in Seesen and Kassel. One important change to note,
however, is the choir of both Jewish and Christian boys that sang in both Hebrew and German,
students from a local school led by writer and reformer Jeremiah Heinemann (1778-1855).37
As the popularity of the New Reform Temple spread, Jacobson began charging for tickets
to attend, at least on some occasions. The environment produced by Jacobson through the
abundance of candles, private setting, emotionally-charged sermons, and congregational singing
was highly affective, especially among the youth in attendance. Leopold Zunz (1794-1886), an
attendee who would later become a preacher in the Temple, described the passion that moved the
congregants: “men who after twenty years of alienation from Judaism spent the entire day at the
services; men thought to be above religious feeling shedding tears of devotion; the majority of
the young [kept] the fast.”38 Though the prestige of associating with some of the most influential
figures of Berlin was likely a motivator for the growing numbers of attendees, feelings of
religious devotion, as Zunz describes, were also a factor in the success of the New Reform
35 Although the decision to replace Ashkenazi pronunciation of Hebrew with Sephardic is not clearly explained by Jacobson or his fellow Reformers, Michael A. Meyer hypothesizes that it may have been due to the belief that Sephardi pronunciation is historically closer to the original pronunciation of Hebrew, while Ashkenazi pronunciation was seen as “a distortion of the original classical form.” This fits with Jacobson’s desire to associate his reforms with ancient modes of worship. Meyer, Response to Modernity, 49. 36 Marcus, Israel Jacobson, 109-110. 37 “Nachricht aus Berlin,” Sulamith. 38 Glatzer, “On an Unpublished Letter,” 130.
56
Temple. The style of worship deployed in the New Reform Temple served to counteract the
lessened influence of religion in the lives of acculturated Jews, seen in the decreased observation
of ritual Jewish law, synagogue attendance, and philanthropic donations. By using the musical
forms and language which these disaffected Jews were most familiar with, the New Reform
Temple reconnected the Jews of the Bildungsbürgertum with their religion and their community.
Created through emotionally-charged sermons and congregational singing of well-
known German hymns, the Temple’s method of “communal worship” can be traced to
modernized Lutheran services of the time, as both sought to heighten “the spiritual awareness of
the worshipper in festive and highly aesthetic ceremonies.”39 While the Christianized music of
the New Reform Temple clearly signified a shared German culture, on a more foundational level
it also recreated the personal spirituality found in some strands of Lutheranism that were
informed by Pietism. A Lutheran reform movement that emerged in the late seventeenth century
and extended into the nineteenth century, Pietism espoused an introspective and intimate
relationship with God that allowed a believer to achieve Wiedergeburt, or rebirth through a
process of edification and self-cleansing.40
Instead of reacting with jealousy or offense to the success of the New Reform Temple
(some services attracted up to 400 guests according to a contemporary report,)41 the Orthodox
rabbis were surprisingly content to allow Jacobson’s private temple to operate because, as
Michael A. Meyer posits, “it seems likely that they were relieved at the opportunity to deflect
39 Baader, Gender, Judaism, and Bourgeois Culture in Germany, 28. 40 The belief in rebirth through self-improvement demonstrates a clear parallel to Bildung, a core tenet of German bourgeois society that was also essential to the character of Reform Judaism and the New Reform Temple. Hartmut Lehmann, “Pietism,” in the Encyclopedia of the Enlightenment (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), http://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref/9780195104301.001.0001/acref-9780195104301-e-545. 41 “Nachricht aus Berlin,” Sulamith.
57
reforming activity away from the synagogue.”42 King Frederick William III, however, was
extremely displeased with the New Reform Temple since he first learned of it through a local
newspaper in November of 1815. Since the private temple broke the 1750 ordinance against such
domestic religious gatherings, the King ordered Jacobson questioned by the police; during his
interview, Jacobson claimed that “the community synagogue did not provide inspiration” and
that his service was “entirely in keeping with Jewish practice.”43 Regardless of the defense put
forward by Jacobson and his associates, the King issued an order on December 9, 1815 that
required all domestic Jewish worship gatherings in the city to be shut down immediately.44
1816-1823: The New Reform Temple in the Beer Mansion
By the last months of 1815, Jacobson’s apartment was deemed too small to hold the
increasing numbers of guests; Jacob Herz Beer and Amalie Beer, parents of the composer
Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791-1864), decided to house the Temple themselves, renovating several
large rooms in their own home at the considerable price of 7,000 Thaler.45 Even though the New
Reform Temple was relocated, Jacobson still worked closely with the Beers to coordinate the
weekly service and, for the most part, maintained the same music and liturgy within the Temple.
Although Jacob Herz Beer tried to convince the King otherwise, the New Reform Temple was
forcibly closed by the police.46
Over the next two and a half years, Beer, Jacobson, and other Reformers in the city made
multiple attempts to reopen the Temple, lobbying a number of politicians and the King himself.
42 Meyer, “The Religious Reform Controversy,” 141. 43 Paraphrase and translation from Meyer, “The Religious Reform Controversy,” 141. 44 Ibid. 45 Bilski and Braun, “The Power of Conversation,” 42. 46 Meyer, “The Religious Reform Controversy,” 142.
58
Although many of the governing elders of the community sought to implement some form of
Jacobson’s methods in the city synagogue, they were countered by the more conservative
rabbinate in both political advocacy and action. In their preserved letters, the advocates for the
New Reform Temple put forth a variety of arguments and potential solutions for the situational
impasse, many of which centered upon the importance of using German, an accessible language,
to reach those in the community that had no knowledge of Hebrew (a striking parallel to the
justifications of Martin Luther).47 After the King rejected several proposals, the pro-Reform
elders of the synagogue came up with a solution that the King approved: the synagogue would
close to undergo “repairs,” allowing for the construction of a second room to house the new style
of services. Due to the closure of the synagogue, Beer and Jacobson were able to reopen the New
Reform Temple in August 1817 with the approval of the police.48 Based on the liturgical format
preserved in Die deutsche Synagoge, an 1817 guide to the Berlin Reform services authored by
two of Jacobson’s preachers, this later iteration of the Temple largely maintained the structure of
the previous version.49
In September 1817, the German-Jewish educator and historian Isaak Markus Jost (1793-
1860) attended the Yom Kippur service at the reestablished New Reform Temple, an experience
he recorded in a letter to his former teacher Samuel Meyer Ehrenberg. Jost held a negative
opinion about the execution of the service, complaining about the “old, scarred, out-of-tune
47 Ibid. 48 Interestingly, the King was unaware of the elders’ hidden motive; when he discovered that the New Reform Temple was re-opened, he underlined the temporary nature of this arrangement, saying that in the future, “the religious services of the Jews will be held nowhere else in Berlin but in this synagogue, and according to the traditional rite without the admixture of arbitrary innovations.” Ibid., 143-144. 49 Eduard Kley and Carl S. Günsberg, Die deutsche Synagoge: oder Ordnung des Gottesdienstes für die Sabbath- und Festtage des ganzen Jahres zum Gebrauche der Gemeinden, die sich der deutschen Gebete bedienen (Berlin: Maurer, 1817).
59
organ” (“die verstimmte, locherige, alte, verrunzelte Orgel”) and the “new, clumsy, shrieking
choir” (“neue, ungeschickte, schreiende Chor”)50 composed of Christian and Jewish students
from the Heinemann school.51 The most useful aspect of Jost’s letter, however, is his detailed
description of the Temple’s design, decoration, layout, and seating, all of which he depicted in a
diagram included with his letter (Fig. 3.3) that was accompanied by a key (Table 3.1).
As Jost noted in his letter, the Beer family had undergone considerable cost and effort to
house the New Reform Temple, combining three large rooms; the middle room in which the
wealthy, intellectuals, and other honored guests sat was “romantically decorated with golden
tassels, gold-covered pillars, silken, gold-embroidered curtains, golden crowns, etc.”52 As shown
in his sketch, the remaining men and women sat segregated from each other, the typical practice
in synagogues of the period; although the men were seated in the right room (directly in front of
the choir and organ) and the women in the left, both were oriented to face the center room. While
the honored guests sat around the edges of the main room, this space also housed a permanent
chuppa, a canopy under which weddings were performed, the altar (which likely included the ark
and Torah), and the reading platform, or bimah. Offset slightly to the right was the pulpit from
which preachers like Leopold Zunz and Eduard Kley and gave their sermons. This arrangement
was relatively consistent with that of the Jacobstempel discussed in Chapter 2, keeping the
congregation’s visual attention on the rabbi and preacher—one essential difference, however, is
the visible and equal seating accorded to women, unlike the raised galleries of the Jacobstempel
50 Translation by Nahum Glatzer. Letter in the original German included in the appendix of “On an Unpublished Letter,” 129-137. 51 Before serving as a school director in Berlin, Jeremiah Heinemann (1778-1855) had served as Jacobson’s personal secretary in Westphalia and had written the text to a songbook of German hymns used at Jacobson’s services in Kassel. Eliezer Schweid, “Heinemann, Jeremiah” in Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed. (New York: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007). 52 “Der mittelere Theil ist romantisch ausgeziehrt, strotzend von goldenen Troddeln, goldbedeckten Säulen, seidenen, goldgestickten Vorhängen, goldenen Kronen, etc.”
60
Figure 3.3: Sketch of the New Reform Temple in the Beer Mansion by Isaak Markus Jost53
Table 3.1: Labels from Jost’s Sketch in German and English54
53 Glatzer, “On an Unpublished Letter,” 132. 54 Ibid., 135.
Aa. Eingang für Frauen Entrance for women Ab. Eingang für Männer Entrance for men a.a.a. Fenster Window B. Orgel und Chor Organ and choir C. Sitze der Männer Men’s seats D. Sitze der Frauen Women’s seats F. Sitze der Magnaten, d.h. der
reichsten Seats of honor for the rich, intellectuals, and dignitaries
G. Baldachin zur Chuppe, feststehend über Säulen
Chuppa, with a canopy held above pillars
H. Altar Altar I. Ohren hakaudesch Reading platform, or bimah K. Kanzel Pulpit Nnn Sind Stühle Chairs
durchbrochene Wände Opened walls
61
and many synagogues that required them to stand. Although this difference could be attributed to
logistical concerns, the seating is also reflective of the increased power and recognition of
women in the domestic sphere
The aesthetic, social, and domestic parallels between the New Reform Temple and the
Jewish salon extended to the role of music as well. The relatively hidden position of the choir
and organ, two of the most obvious makers of Christian musical influence, speaks to the function
of music within the service: to facilitate Bildung through, as Leopold Zunz described it,
“religious feeling.”55 In both the synagogue and the salon, music was an essential aspect of the
gathering but not the central purpose; music, like literature, conversation, theater, and rhetoric,
ennobled audience and performer alike through shared virtues. To bourgeois Germans of the
early nineteenth century, Bildung and spirituality alike were defined by a “self-reflexive and
introspective stance” that could be engaged through religious worship, cultural consumption, or
domestic tranquility.56 Though the use of Christian musical elements can be read solely as the
expression of a Jewish desire to conform to German culture, the music of the New Reform
Temple, like early Reform Judaism itself, reflects a more nuanced relationship between religion
and identity. Jacobson, Beer, and their congregation proudly claimed Jewish heritage and
maintained many prayers, texts, and rituals essential to Jewish worship—by adapting the
outward characteristics of worship into a form that replicated German modes of spirituality and
self-making, however, the Berlin Reformers enabled the creation of a harmonious German-
As in the salon of Amalie Beer, music was the primary aesthetic centerpiece for Temple
services.57 Both Jacobson and the Beers would often invite well-known Christian composers to
write music for their services such as Carl Friedrich Zelter (1758-1832) and Bernhard Anselm
Weber (1764-1821). Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791-1864),58 the son of Amalie and Jacob, was also
asked on at least one occasion to provide music for the Temple which resulted in the Hallelujah,
a cantatine (or small cantata) for four male voices, organ, and children’s choir, only recently
published as a modern performing edition in 2016.59 In the fall of 1815, when the work was
composed, Meyerbeer was 23 years old and studying in Paris, a city which he believed to be “the
principal and most important place for my education in music drama.”60 As a young boy,
Meyerbeer had gained a reputation as a prodigy on the piano and as a composer, studying with
Zelter and Weber and performing for the diverse audience of his mother’s salon. By 1815,
Meyerbeer was an accomplished performer and composer: several of his works were performed
publicly and published and his former teacher Weber described him as “one of the best pianists,
if not the best pianist of our time.”61
57 Even before coming to Berlin or building the Jacobstempel, Jacobson accorded music a great level of importance in education and self-improvement. As Karl Ritter noted in 1806 after visiting the Jacobsschule, “[Jacobson uses] music as the most prominent aesthetic tool of Bildung.” Frassl, Die Jacobson-Schule in Seesen, 95. 58 Meyerbeer was given the name Jacob Liebmann Beer at birth; after the death of his grandfather Liebmann Meyer Wulff in 1811, he changed his surname to Meyerbeer; and in 1817, during his studies in Italy, he took the first name Giacomo. 59 Giacomo Meyerbeer, Hallelujah: eine Cantatine für 4 Männerstimmen mit Begleitung einer obligaten Orgel und des Chores ad libitum, ed. Hermann Max (Mainz: Schott, 2013). 60 Matthias Brzoska, "Meyerbeer, Giacomo," Grove Music Online, accessed April 26 2018, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000018554. 61 Brzoska, “Meyerbeer, Giacomo.”
63
The Hallelujah Cantatine was written sometime between August 4th of that year, when
Meyerbeer received a letter from his father Jacob requesting that the piece be written,62 and
October 31st, when Meyerbeer’s close friend and New Reform Temple preacher Eduard Kley
(1789-1867) mentioned that the Cantatine had yet to be performed.63 In the letter to his son,
Jacob Herz Beer listed the guidelines for the composition: that it be written for four male voices
that would all sing the first verse, with the boys’ choir joining them on the “Hallelujah” refrain;
that there would be no instrumental accompaniment, only organ; “since there are no well-versed
singers, the upper voices should not be too high or the lower voices too low”; and that the vocal
lines should be “flowingly simple and without difficult modulations.”64
These qualities are all immediately evident in the score—Meyerbeer obviously scored the
work in regards to his father’s wishes, utilizing the boys’ choir only in the “Hallelujah” refrain
and including no other instruments aside from the organ. The musical lines for the organ and the
men’s chorus are also relatively simple, lacking complex ornamental figures, wide leaps, or
intricate ensemble writing (the four male voices are primarily in homophony with each other,
while much of the organ part utilizes block chords and eighth-note figurations). The harmony of
the piece is extremely consonant, with no complicated modulations or harsh dissonances even for
musical affect. Meyerbeer does, however, heighten the expression of the text through the varied
use of texture and dynamics: the word “silent” (“schweigt”) is marked pianissimo; the phrase
“praise God with Hallelujah” (“betet an mit Hallelujah”) moves from piano to subito forte on the
last word, which also functions as the chorus; and the phrase “You alone” (“Du allein”) is sung
62 “J.H. Beer an Meyerbeer in Paris,” in Giacomo Meyerbeer: Briefwechsel und Tagebücher, Vol. I, ed. Heinz Becker (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter and Co., 1959), 280-281. 63 “E. Kley an Meyerbeer in Paris,” in Giacomo Meyerbeer: Briefwechsel und Tagebücher, Vol. I, 294-295 64 “J.H. Beer an Meyerbeer in Paris,” 281.
64
Example 3.1: Excerpt from Giacomo Meyerbeer, Hallelujah Cantatine, mm. 136-14065
solo, with the other three voices singing in response (Example 3.1). Meyerbeer also employs
falling fifths sequences in the organ line, a feature that was more commonly associated with
music from the Baroque era. The Hallelujah Cantatine breaks with tradition, however, through
its form: in composing the piece, Meyerbeer chose to bypass the traditional form of the cantata,
in which chorus alternates with solo recitative; instead, the music is organized into verses and
refrains typical of a Protestant hymn, with the organ providing a short prelude and postlude as
well.
65 Giacomo Meyerbeer, Hallelujah: eine Cantatine für 4 Männerstimmen mit Begleitung einer obligaten Orgel und des Chores ad libitum, ed. Hermann Max (Mainz: Schott, 2013).
65
The work itself is purposely simple in its construction: although Zelter knew and admired
Bach’s music,66 there is little evidence of the dense counterpoint or complex structures found in
Bach’s cantatas. Although choral conductor and early music specialist Hermann Max believed
that Meyerbeer’s avoidance of technical, formal, and harmonic complexity marked the Cantatine
as “the étude of a budding composer,”67 the expectations set down by Meyerbeer’s father
indicate that taste and aesthetic rather than lack of compositional ability determined the piece’s
style. Indeed, Meyerbeer’s Hallelujah Cantatine can actually be understood as an ideal piece of
religious music within the cultural ideal of musical simplicity found within Christian sacred
music of the early and middle nineteenth-century. Many contemporary Protestant and Catholic
composers were informed by the bourgeois concept of Bildung when writing music for the
church: their music “appropriated the aesthetic ideas of classicism (likewise an offshoot of the
bourgeois spirit…formulated as ‘noble simplicity and silent grandeur.’”68
Berlin-based critic E.T.A. Hoffmann (1776-1822) described these values in his 1814
essay “Alte und Neue Kirchenmusik,” first published in an 1814 issue of the Allgemeine
musikalische Zeitung.69 In it, Hoffmann criticizes sacred works that draw upon “theatrical
gaudiness”70 and a “frivolous” style for their lack of substance—instead, Hoffmann argues that
true religious feeling is presented musically through an “austere, noble style” that “avoid[s] all
66 Over the past several decades, a growing amount of research has been published about the popular reception of Bach in certain circles of late-eighteenth- and early-nineteenth-century Berlin, especially within the salon of Sara Levy. For more on this topic, see Sara Levy’s World: Gender, Judaism, and the Bach Tradition in Enlightenment Berlin, eds. Rebecca Cypess and Nancy Sinkoff (Rochester: University of Rochester, 2018). 67 Hermann Max, preface to Meyerbeer, Hallelujah. 68 Carl Dahlhaus, Nineteenth-Century Music, trans. J. Bradford Robinson (Berkeley: University of California, 1989), 179. 69 E. T. A. Hoffmann, “Old and New Church Music [1814],” in E. T. A. Hoffmann’s Musical Writings: Kreisleriana, The Poet and the Composer, Music Criticism, trans. Martyn Clarke & ed. David Charlton, 351-376 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 358. 70 Ibid., 371.
66
decoration,” refrains from using instruments apart from the organ, “preserve[s] the simplicity of
the chorale-like singing, which [is] not overwhelmed by a hotchpotch of accompanying figures.”
Furthermore, vocal lines should remain within a small, easily-navigable range, while the work as
a whole should be flush with consonance and lack the “striking modulations” of modern music.71
The music of Meyerbeer’s Cantatine fits almost entirely into Hoffmann’s model of ideal
sacred music; beyond the work itself, however, the mode of personal devotion practiced within
the New Reform Temple echoes the emotional spirituality that Hoffmann describes as motivating
the ideal religious music. Within this frame of mind, Hoffmann writes,
Chords and harmony become the image and expression of that communion of spirits, of that bond with the eternal ideal which at once embraces and reigns over us. The music which is purest, holiest, and most suitable for the church must therefore be that which arises from the heart purely as an expression of that love, ignoring and despising all earthly things.72
Similar language was used by the preacher Leopold Zunz to describe the environment of the
New Reform Temple that encouraged weeping and fasting among the congregants,73 a mood of
intense introspection that was present in some strands of Lutheran worship at the time.
The text of the Hallelujah Cantatine was likely contributed by Eduard Kley, a figure in
the New Reform Temple known for his sermons and hymn texts. In the letter to Meyerbeer
mentioned previously, Kley makes reference to “our Cantatine,” implying that he had a direct
hand in its creation;74 Matthias Brzoska associates the text with Kley as well.75 In the score
recently published by Schott, an editorial note provides the work’s text as printed in Gotthold
Salomon’s 1820 collection of sermons from the New Israelite Temple in Hamburg, the temple
71 Ibid., 358-360. 72 Ibid., 357-358. 73 Glatzer, “On an Unpublished Letter,” 130. 74 “E. Kley an Meyerbeer in Paris,” in Giacomo Meyerbeer: Briefwechsel und Tagebücher, Vol. I, 294-295. 75 Brzoska, "Meyerbeer, Giacomo," Grove Music Online.
67
that Kley founded in 1817 after leaving Berlin. The original German printed in the Schott edition
is included below.
Heilig! heilig! Gott der Welten, Heilig du, — dein Name sei heilig! Herrlich groß, sehr groß in deinen Werken, Alles ruft dir mit Entzücken Hallelujah! Betet an, o Staubgeborne, Er, der Heilige, erscheint. Miriaden Sonnen flammen, —er, der Heilige, erscheint. Schweigt, staunt und betet an mit Hallelujah. Könige der Erden, zittert, betet vor ihm, Nationen. Er ist aller Könige König, aller Herren Herr Gott nur ist’s. Hallelujah. Unerschaffner in den Höhen! Wer kann rein vor dir bestehen? Was nur Odem hat, vergehet; Du allein, du bist ewig, Zebaoth. Hallelujah! Singt dem Herrscher, Erdbewohner! Singet ihm Preis, ihr Kreaturen. In der Himmel Heiligthume Thront er ewig, herrscht er heilig. Hallelujah!76
Although a full analysis has yet to be undertaken regarding potential connections between this
text and traditional Jewish liturgy, a cursory examination reveals no exclusively Jewish ideas.
Kley’s text celebrates the glory of God and calls for the audience to praise and worship him:
“Silence, marvel, and worship with Hallelujah,” “Sing to the ruler, dwellers of Earth!” Kley’s
text is a poetic treatment that most notably recalls the Sanctus of the mass, which also begins
with a repetition of the word “holy” (heilig in German). Kley also references various excerpts
from the Old Testament such as Isaiah 6:3, in which an angel heralding God called out “Heilig,
76 German text included in the preface to Giacomo Meyerbeer, Hallelujah: eine Cantatine.
68
heilig, heilig ist der Herr Zebaoth; alle Lande sind seiner Ehre voll!”77 Kley’s text is organized
into five stanzas that conclude with the interjection of “Hallelujah,” a structure that is reflected in
the verse-chorus form of Meyerbeer’s musical setting. Based on a service order of the New
Reform Temple that was published in Sulamith, it is likely that a musical work with a newly-
composed text like the Cantatine would close the service, as the eighteenth and final item of the
service was described as a “three voice edifying song” sung by a male chorus of worshippers.78
As one of the few surviving pieces of music utilized in the New Reform Temple (aside
from the songbooks of Protestant hymns sung to Hebrew text), Meyerbeer’s Hallelujah
Cantatine is an extremely valuable demonstration of how the Berlin Reformers used music to
express specific values of culture, politics, and identity. Unlike many of the chorale hymns used
in the New Reform Temple that repurposed traditional Lutheran melodies, the Hallelujah
Cantatine was newly composed, illustrating the musical values held by Meyerbeer and his father,
the host of the Temple. Simplicity and solemnity were prized over virtuosity and complexity, as
seen in the Cantatine’s “flowingly simple” vocal lines,79 limited orchestration, and consonant
harmonies. To a contemporary listener in the New Reform Temple, the Hallelujah Cantatine
would sound very different from the music of the opera and concert hall, more closely
resembling the plainly-constructed hymns sung by the congregation during worship. The work
was intended to function in context with the Reform service as a whole, reinforcing the
emotional yet decorous feeling of devotion inspired by the candlelit, “romantically decorated”
interior, moving sermons, and congregational singing.
77 Isa. 6:3 Luther Bible 1545. 78 “Nachricht aus Berlin,” Sulamith. 79 “J.H. Beer an Meyerbeer in Paris,” 281.
69
Although the Beers, Jacobson, and their fellow Berlin Reformers were able to sustain the
popularity of the New Reform Temple for six years, political struggles with the Prussian state,
Orthodox rabbis, and even among the Temple’s organizers were constant. At some point, the
leaders of the Temple were forced by popular demand within the congregation to hire the hazzan
Asher Lion (1776-1873) who later went on to succeed Aaron Beer as the hazzan of the Berlin
Synagogue. Although Abraham Idelsohn described Lion as “without a voice but with some
modern culture,” it is likely that he led at least some of the prayers or readings in the traditional
styles of synagogue song and cantillation.80 Meanwhile, the Orthodox Jews of Berlin began to
lobby the government to close the New Reform Temple, finally motivated to oppose it due to
“the prospect of a permanently divided synagogue,” as the current solution was to remodel the
synagogue to hold a second Reform service.81 Ultimately, the repairs to the synagogue were
completed in 1823 and the King, motivated by fears of religious schism and a desire to retain
control and order, agreed with the Orthodox rabbis that there should be only one service in one
location. Eight and a half years after Israel Jacobson opened his home for the celebration of his
son’s confirmation, the New Reform Temple’s final closure was ordered by King Frederick
William III on December 9, 1823:
Occasioned by the attached representation of a part of the local Jewish community, I once more determine hereby that the Jewish religious service shall be conducted only in the local synagogues and only according to the rite previously in use, without the least innovation in language or ceremonial, in prayers or in singing, and wholly in accordance with the ancient ordinances. I hold you [Jewish officials] under obligation to adhere strictly to this order and to tolerate no sects whatsoever among the Jews in my state.82
acculturated Jews from their claim to German identity. Familiar with German culture and raised
with the practice of Bildung but estranged from the Hebrew language and Jewish traditions, the
Jewish Bildungsbürgertum of Berlin was alienated from the synagogue and the Jewish
community, leading to an unprecedented spike in conversions. Within this context, Jacobson’s
reform became clearly defined as a way to not only maintain Jewish identity, but renegotiate its
boundaries to fit within the demands of German modernity. Through the deployment of
Christian-influenced music in Jewish worship, perhaps the most essential element of the Reform
service, Jacobson demonstrated a potential path toward the reconciliation of German and Jewish
identities.
75
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APPENDIX A: KOL NIDRE CHANT NOTATED BY AARON BEER (1739-1821)1
1 Abraham Zevi Idelsohn, Jewish Music in its Historical Development (New York: Tudor, 1929), 150-151.
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APPENDIX B: WENN ICH O SCHÖPFER, NO. 1, JACOBSON HYMNAL2
2 Israel Jacobson, Hebräische und Deutsche Gesänge zur Andacht und Erhauung, zunächst für die neuen Schulen der Israelitischen Jugend in Westphalen (Kassel: Waisenhaus Buchdruckerei, 1810). I would like to thank Dr. Joachim Frassl, who shared his images of the hymnal for this project.